#he’s purposely evil with a smile on his face and it’s so sexy of him

[pinkmirth]

suguru details!

[loko4koko]

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Gojo Satoru x f!reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

100 FOLLOWER MILESTONE CELEBRATION ✰

>fanart_credit: _3aem (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 7293

>contents: slight crack (it’s a gojo fic what do u expect), established relationship, fake engagements, excessive use of “fiancé/fiancée”, satoru is DOWN BAD like ultra simp 3000 levels, kiiinda rich boy!gojo but like barely, gojo calls you “angel” and baby” a lot, cunnilingus, kinda feral!gojo too, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), multiple positions, explicit p in v, rough(ish) sex, creampie, gojo being a lil slut for you, itty bitty dacryphilia (if you squint mad hard)

there’s a standoff happening in your kitchen. a staring contest of sorts. the tension in the air is palpable, so thick you could taste it if you stuck out your tongue. your opponent is a worthy contender, giving just as good as it gets. your nose twitches with the intensity of it, eyes narrowed as you keep your gaze firm, focused.

your adversary in this battle? a red, velvet ring box.

god, it’s like it’s taunting you with it’s delicate heart shape. smug little box, just sitting on the dining table unopened. you’re not sure how long you’ve been caught in the orbit of this suspicious item, but it must’ve been quite a while, according to your boyfriend.

“babeee, i’ve been calling you! what’re you doing?” satoru appears from the direction of your bedroom, frown on his face from his belief that you’re purposely ignoring him. he slips behind you, arms around your torso as he leaves a kiss on the top of your head.

“oh,” he laughs as he fixes his eyes on what has you so engrossed, “it’s not what you think.”

this is what gets your attention, turning your head so your gaze is no longer on the little box, but on satoru instead. “what, you proposing to your other girlfriend or something?” you pout. he laughs again, annoyingly louder this time.

“baby, i’m not proposing to anybody yet. and you know i don’t have another girlfriend. it took me 3 years to get you to say yes to one date, you think i’m pulling that off again? thanks for putting faith into my game, though.” you can’t help but to roll your eyes in jest, turning in the man’s arms to wrap yourself around him.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. so…what is it then?”

“it’s a ring.”

“i thought you said you weren’t proposing…”

“okay well, technically, i am. but listen! i saw online some guy and his girlfriend went to different restaurants with a fake ring and when he ‘proposed’ to her, they gave them free food and desserts! so. we’re doing that.”

you pull yourself from satoru’s grasp, staring up at him blankly. he gives you a goofy smile in return, bringing a hand up to boop your nose when you remain silent.

“satoru….really? doing this just so you can get free chocolate lava cakes and ice cream? i’m definitely deleting tiktok from your phone, damn app gives you way too many ideas.” and there he goes frowning again, pretty pink lips downturned so dramatically.

“baby, no…i’m doing this so that WE can get free chocolate lava cakes and ice cream. what kind of selfish, evil man do you take me for? … and you’re not deleting my tiktok! how else am i going to send nanami videos he claims to not watch but always knows about when i ask him?”

a sigh leaves you as you shake your head, truly experiencing defeat. you, and everyone else that had ever met him for that matter, knew that there was no changing satoru’s mind when the words “free” and “dessert” were involved. he’d eat himself into a goddamn diabetic coma if you let him get away with it.

satoru enacts his master plan the next night, surprising you with a stunning new dress and a note that says to “look super sexy and marriageable (where the hell had he even learned that word?) as usual” left on your bed. you try your best to comply with his wishes, getting your makeup and hair as perfect as you can before slipping the very revealing dress on. you realize something rather odd while you doll yourself up; satoru hasn’t come home to get himself ready. it was almost 6pm, the time designated by him in his little note, and you were practically ready aside from some jewelry and shoes. you couldn’t imagine that he would make you wait while he showered and dressed, so you were a little bit confused, but you decide to brush it off while you pick between solid gold hoops and diamond-encrusted dangles, both courtesy of the man in question.

when 6:04pm rolls around, and your fancy yves saint laurent heels are wrapped around your feet, the front door opens. you look up from your seat at the kitchen island with a wine glass in hand, and, in the most cliché way possible, your breath is stolen right out of your lungs. satoru was always stupidly beautiful, just so gorgeous that it made you sick, but now? he looked even more alluring than usual. those inhumanly blue eyes were hidden behind his typical shades, masterfully tailored suit adorning his lanky form like it was painted on. his deep red button up, the same color as your cocktail dress, was unbuttoned for the first three (because he was a slut.) and to top it all off, he was wearing that same award winning smile that he’d dazzled you with so many years ago. if he wasn’t so set on his goddamn desserts, you’d bend over and spread your thighs for him right there on the counter.

“holy fuck,” is the first thing he says to you, grip on a bouquet of what looks like dark red carnations and burgundy roses tightening as he takes you in. he takes off his glasses as he draws in closer, pure reverence in his eyes the whole time. “angel, you look…you look fucking edible. my god. what a woman.” you’re not new to satoru’s comments and compliments, far from it, but tonight, they were hitting a little different, for lack of a better term. maybe it was the look in his eyes, some kind of compound of love and burning desire, but something else, too. something almost…determined, but you don’t know what he’d be determined to do other than put on a good show.

“so, eat me then,” you tease, though the heat in your cheeks and your eyes not meeting his gives away how flustered he’s got you. he’s still looking you over, scrutinizing every pretty inch of you with an overwhelming intensity before his steely gaze levels to yours.

“mm, tempting, but it’ll have to wait; we have to go get engaged first. these,” he holds the flowers out to you, “are yours, my arrestingly beautiful queen.” you can’t help but to laugh at his ultra-corny pet names, but they warm your heart nonetheless, rising from your stool to find a vase to fill with water.

“where were you, anyway? you show up all dressed to the nines on me out of nowhere. what, did you get ready in the car or something?” you ask, back to the white-haired man while you dig around in a cabinet.

“suguru helped me out, kept my suit and let me shower at his place..” he says, almost distantly. you can’t see it, but satoru is watching you, worshipping you with his eyes as you flit around the kitchen in your heels and your dress and your oh so seductive aura. he’s never seen anything or anyone be more mesmerizing in his life, and he knows he never will.

arriving at the first restaurant of the three satoru had planned has your nerves alighting. what if they knew you were faking it? god, how disgraceful that would be—caught in your goober of a boyfriend’s silly scheme would have you too embarrassed to show your face in public for at least two months. but then he smiles at you from the driver seat- a genuine one that eases your anxieties and soothes your concerns, one so brilliant that it instills you with the necessary confidence to go commit…whatever form of fraud this whole thing is. you give him one in return, reaching out to cup his cheek before you’re leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. you can feel him smile even wider when you do.

“so, how much do you want me to sell this? ‘cause, if i cry now, it might not be so believable at the next place.” satoru’s pushing in your chair when you speak, smoothing his hands down your shoulders before giving you a squeeze. he takes his own seat, flipping the menu open to browse through the beverage list.

“best as you can with no tears. gotta save those for the last one,” he tilts his glasses down to send you a wink, and, for the millionth time within your relationship, you’re light-heartedly rolling your eyes at him. “you got it, baby. but! if you don’t share whatever disgustingly sweet, sugar-stuffed, chocolate-drizzled, candy-coated bullshit you ask for, it’s gonna be your pretty little ass.” he laughs at your threat and throws his hands up in resignation. you might be smiling when you say it, but you surely aren’t joking, and he knows it.

you both decide to keep dinner small and light, knowing you’re going to gorge yourselves on whatever insulin-raising dishes your dear boyfriend chooses to indulge in. it’s not long after you put your fork down when he gives you ‘the look.’ you have to use all of your willpower not to smile, woosah-ing yourself into the role of an unsuspecting girlfriend about to be proposed to. you paint a look of surprise on your face when he gets down on one knee, giving you a charming little speech about how he’d “wanted to do this for so, so long” and how he “could never love another the way he loves you, never want to. so please baby, will you marry me?” it’s actually rather romantic, makes you wonder how close it all is to his true feelings for you.

you and satoru hardly ever explicitly talked about marriage, but he did always talk about how he wanted to be with you forever (or rather, that he’d jump off a bridge if you ever broke up with him, but that wasn’t as eloquent.) he’d mention plans of a big house he wanted to put you in, so he could come home to you and your warm embrace every day until he was old and wrinkly beside you. so, maybe not an outright “hey, we’re getting married some day,” but it was most definitely implied.

at the end of satoru’s little scripted scene, he pulls out that same heart-shaped ring box from the table, opening it up to showcase a square cut diamond, one you’re sure must be a piece of costume jewelry for the occasion. you gasp, climbing out of your seat to throw your arms around him with a “yes! yes, i’ll marry you!” he picks you up, standing back up to his full height as he delicately sways you back and forth. you share a kiss, one you let a few secret giggles into, before you part, allowing your boyfriend the pleasure of sliding the ring onto your finger. the patrons of the restaurant that’d been watching the spectacle all clap at what they believe to be a genuine display of affection, including your waiter from his station near the kitchen. it’s a lot of attention, but being with someone that looks like (and acts like, and is) satoru means you’re relatively used to stares and whispers. he gives you one more sloppy smooch before he’s helping you back into your seat, giving a bow of thanks to the other customers before he’s sitting, too.

when the waiter comes back to offer up your grand prize, with eyes dampened from your well-acted performance, satoru keeps it simple and orders a non-nauseating plate of assorted mochi ice cream. and when it comes to the table, he plucks one of the cold, sweet little treats in between his long fingertips and reaches his equally lengthy arm across the table to feed it to you with not a lick of selfishness. fuck the dessert, he’d share the entire moon with you if it was in his possession.

“babe, we fucking killed that. that lady? in the black blouse? she was crying, like, actually crying! i almost feel bad, but that mochi was to die for, so i’d say it was a worthy crime.” you jabber excitedly on your walk back to the car, hand in hand with your stage fiancé. he’s staring down at you as you prattle on, knows he should be watching where he’s going but fuck, you’re so stunning and you go along with his admittedly very childish desires for free sweets and yeah, he really is so whipped, it’s not even funny. he’d never deny it, either—the man who carries multiple pictures of you in his wallet and as his phone background, the man who gives you massages and shares from his candy stash when you’re on your period, the one who can’t get mad at you when you fall asleep on him during a movie he really wanted to see? there’d be an ice-cold day in hell before that man—the only gojo satoru—ever denies being hopelessly, foolishly, irrevocably in love with you.

the second restaurant that you and satoru pull your scheme on is a tad bit more upscale than the first—not to say the first eatery wasn’t upscale, would never be the case with your luxury loving boyfriend—and you absorb your surroundings from your place on the man’s arm while he checks your reservation in with the maître d. for this place, as fancy as it is, you think you’ll tone down the theatrics, keep it a little classier this time around. you don’t want to embarrass yourself or satoru with some overly acted performance that screamed fake. the suited man behind the counter leads you to a table, not smack-dab in the middle of the dining area but not very secluded either, something perfect for the exhibition you were going to put on.

“you know, you’re setting me up for some very high expectations, ‘toru,” you speak from behind your wine glass, eyes on what would be his if it weren’t for the glasses he still wears. he looks up from his menu, head tilted inquisitively.

“is that so?”

“mhm. that ring you got looks nice, but you’ve spoiled me. i’m gonna need one way bigger now. and,” you pause, taking another swig from your glass, “you’ll have to really surprise me. i mean, this restaurant is really nice, but if you keep this up, we’re gonna run out of fancy restaurants for you to actually propose to me in. there’re only so many, y’know.” your tone is coated in sarcasm, but satoru doesn’t laugh. instead, he smirks, closing his menu and placing it to the side.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about that, sweet girl. you’ll be very surprised when it happens.”

the meal is delicious, as expected, and your plates are cleared soon after. satoru’s laughing at a story you have about your neighbor’s adorable little kitty cat that keeps trying to sneak into your apartment while he pours you another glass of an unnecessarily expensive wine he insisted on.

“are you ready?” he asks when you finish, and you give him a short nod, quick to prepare yourself again for the false astonishment you have to give and the onslaught of eyes that were soon to be on the two of you.

he reaches across the table to take your left hand in his, eyes peering up at you over his glasses when he leans down to press his lips against your ring finger.

“i love you,” he murmurs before he’s up and out of his seat. he approaches your side of the table but he doesn’t do his part of getting down on one knee yet, opting instead to cup your cheek with a hold so gentle you’d assume he thought you were made of glass.

“i mean it, i really do love you more than anything in this world.” you don’t have time to respond to the declaration before he’s descending to his knee, taking your hand yet again as he gives you another speech. this one is different than the last, but just as full of genuine love.

“you make my days worth living, baby. you make the sun look like a streetlight in comparison to how much you light up my life. you’re so funny, so smart, so generous, and you put up with the…less than favorable parts of my personality with very minimal complaints.” he says that last part with a little bit of disdain and it has you giggling in a way no one else can bring out of you, despite your slightly glossy eyes. “my perfect girl, will you marry me?”

and there it is, the ring box you’d been waiting to see since you stepped into this establishment full of onlookers. he opens the box and slides the ring onto your finger before he even gets your verbal answer, but it doesn’t matter because you’re nodding and smiling like a damn idiot, as if it’s real. you try not to dwell on that thought for long.

“of course i’ll marry you, satoru.” he carefully pulls you up out of your chair and cups your face again, this time with both hands, lips against yours in a kiss much more serious than the last time you did this. there’s more applause following suit, but you can’t pay attention to anyone but satoru, who’s kissing you so deeply that the restaurant could be burning to a crisp and you would be none the wiser. when you part, he’s grinning, a little bit from the wine buzz and a lot from the adrenaline of proposing to his gorgeous girlfriend, staged as it was.

your waitress is quick to congratulate you both, and when she mentions the one thing that satoru came here for—that goddamned free dessert—he lets you choose. but you’re so generous, his sweet little sweetheart, just like he said in his speech, and you pick something sugar-stuffed, and chocolate drizzled, and so fucking satoru that it makes your teeth ache. you’re always, always, thinking about him, and he loves you all the more for it.

when you get to the last restaurant/soon-to-be victim of theft of services, you’re feeling very practiced in the art of deception. the tears you were able to evoke out of the unknowing guests, and the ones satoru almost pulled out of you had you unwaveringly confident in both your own and satoru’s level of skill as thespians this time around.

this place is a far cry from the previous two and you can tell before you even step foot inside, the architectural marvel of a building radiating the energy of one of those “sorry, we’re booked 3 years in advance” kind of places. you have no doubt that satoru could get in anywhere if he wanted to, though- the man was quick to offer bribes well into the range of some people’s entire salaries. if he wanted something, he was unrelenting, tenacious even—traits you admired greatly about him.

the moment you step inside, you start to feel a little swell of anxiety. this was..intense. the lighting was much more moody, with floor to ceiling windows giving the diners a view of a beautiful garden, lush with greenery. you and satoru had dined well before, but this was something entirely different. he leads you to the reception desk where another maître d, not dissimilar to the one before, greets you with an air of extreme professionalism. satoru gives the man his name, and you’re left a little confused when his eyes widen in what you think is surprise. he gives your boyfriend a quick nod before he dashes off, and you try not to focus too much on how expensive this place must be or why satoru would come here of all places for a free dessert, but it’s hard not to. the wall behind the reception desk is practically covered in plaques of awards, the words “michelin star” and “winner of..” plastered on most of them. you know those aren’t easily earned, so you try to think less about the exorbitant cost you know your boyfriend is paying, instead doing your best to enjoy this probably once-in-a-lifetime dining experience.

the man from before returns, with another more sharply dressed man, who grins wide when he sees satoru and yourself. he shakes your man’s hand firmly, giving a nod of his head in the direction of the dining area. the restaurant is gorgeous, past that really, but a little under-populated for satoru’s plan to have it’s most effectiveness. besides, what’s the point of a fake proposal if no one is gonna see it?

you mention your previous thoughts to satoru once you’re seated, but he just gives you a smile and says “don’t worry about anything other than enjoying yourself.”

so you don’t. you reminisce on funny, and sometimes embarrassing stories about your past with satoru—sharing laughter, and food you can’t fucking pronounce, and glasses of ridiculously high-priced alcohol.

“you’re the most wonderful woman in the world, angel,” he muses some time down the line, “thank you. i don’t fucking deserve you.” his words have you putting your glass down, reaching across the table to mirror his earlier actions by taking his hand, with your face set into a frown.

“i don’t like it when you say things like that, satoru. you do deserve me..because i say you do. you’re not- you’re not hard to love, satoru; it’s actually very, very easy. and i love loving you, and i’m gonna keep doing it every fucking day that you’ll have me. okay? so none of that,” you say, squeezing his much larger hand in your own.

“what if i wanted to have you forever?” he asks, eyes still hidden behind those increasingly unnecessary glasses. the restaurant is far more dimly lit than the first two, but the urge to complain comes only from how much you miss looking into those dazzling blue pools.

“well, i’d give you forever and then some. you’re not getting rid of me, ‘toru,” you grin, taking the stem of your glass between the fingers of your free hand and lifting it to your lips. satoru follows the movement behind his shades, watches how the delicate line of your throat bobs with your swallowing with a sort of reverie that is usually described in religious texts. he’d pray for you, pray to you, anything. he’d learn how to sculpt just so your beauty could be immortalized for all of eternity.

satoru says your name and you hum, quick to swallow down the rest of your sake before giving him a sweet smile with your eyebrows raised.

“i hope you meant what you said—about forever.” you’re about to ask him what his foreboding words mean but you’re interrupted by none other than satoru himself, rising from his seat for the third and final time this evening to bring himself down to one knee. you’re about to laugh and quietly chide him for not giving you time to prepare for the show when you hear the sound of a piano, looking over your shoulder to see a man sitting at the once unmanned instrument. you turn further still and see that all of the staff has crowded around the edges of the room, all holding intricately crafted bouquets of..dark red carnations and burgundy roses, much like the one he’d given you, both granting you space but still wanting to watch the grand gesture that your boyfriend prepared.

“satoru, what’s….did you call ahead or something? this is…kind of a lot for a dessert i could make you at home..” he smiles and shakes his head at your endearing ignorance to the situation, reaching up to pull his glasses off for the first time all night. those eyes that you missed so much, they were rimmed with a faint redness. you couldn’t help but act on your instincts, reaching out to cup his face in your careful—caring—hands. you don’t get the chance to ask him what has him tearing up so much before he starts, a speech entirely new leaving his lips.

“if you think that loving me is easy, then loving you is child’s play. loving you is…one of the greatest gifts that i have ever or could ever be granted. you don’t always see it, and i like it that way, but sometimes—a lot of times—i look at you like you created the heavens and the earth. you are the heavens and the earth to me. you’re everything to me. your laugh alone could cure me of any ails. i don’t know what i did to make such a beautiful, loving, gentle, smart, hilarious, talented woman fall in love with my stupid ass, but fuck, baby, i thank the universe every day for you. you give me purpose. you give me strength. you give me the want to continue, when it feels like there’s no fight left in me.”

your eyes shimmer with unshed tears, lips parted in genuine shock that you hadn’t expected to feel tonight. you spare another glance at the staff before bringing your gaze back to satoru, voice caught in your throat and tongue heavy in your mouth.

“satoru, if- if you’re playing with me..if you’re doing this for your damn dessert, i-“

“no, baby, this- this is real. you are…the most exceptional person i know. you love me in a way that i didn’t know was possible before you came into my life. i’m so goddamn unworthy of you, but you chose me, and i swear, that for the rest of my life—the rest of our life—i’ll never let you down. please, angel. please make me the most blessed man on the planet and marry me?”

satoru reaches into the pocket of his suit pants as you stare in amazement, mascara tears fully running down your cheeks now. the ring box in his grasp is much different than the one from your faux-engagements—it’s black, shaped like an oval with silver ornamental designs around the perimeter. and when he opens it, your lip begins to quiver.

the ring is something so uniquely satoru, a thin silver band that splits into multiple vine-like channels, with little diamonds attached for the appearance of flowers. they meet at the top where the stone resides, and fuck, it’s big. it’s aquamarine, with several little prongs holding it’s marquise shape in place. it must’ve cost a fortune, and you can’t help but marvel at it as satoru takes your hand in his own again, lips against your ring finger one last time before he’s slipping the delicate piece of jewelry onto your finger.

“i need you to say it, angel. say you’ll marry me,” he pleads, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit space. you can’t hold back the sob that leaves you, nodding vigorously as you caress his face.

“yes, ‘toru, i’ll marry you.” you say through the tears, pressing your salt-covered lips to his. there’s applause behind you, just like the other “engagements,” but this time, you don’t need them there. you’d have said yes to him if it was 3 in the morning and you were half asleep, you’d have said it in the car on the way to the grocery store. you’d say yes to him anywhere, at any time.

true to satoru’s word, he doesn’t bother with the free dessert this time around. he’s too busy thinking about going home and getting a taste of his fiancée to bother with some fancy piece of cake. and he almost doesn’t make it home, pressing you up against the car with his right hand on the side of your face and the other on your waist. he kisses you so voraciously, like if he tried just that much harder, he could swallow you whole.

“satoru, stop!” you giggle against his ravenous mouth, “a public indecency charge wouldn’t be a great start to our engagement, you think?”

“i can’t help it. my fiancée just looks so good, i don’t think anybody’d blame me if i hiked your dress up right here,” he says, leaning his head down onto your shoulder to leave a kiss or two on the bare skin. you gently push him away, coy look in your eyes when you meet his own.

“at home, the dress comes all the way off.”

satoru has you both in the car with the keys in the ignition and the gearshift in ‘drive’ within 14 seconds.

the front door to your apartment is solid wood, and it’s cold against your back where satoru has, yet again, found a surface to press you up against. you barely made it three steps inside before he was on you, groping and squeezing anything his reach would allow. his lips are sweet where they meet yours, kinda like how they always are, from all the desserts and wines he’d indulged himself in. and somewhere in there, a taste that’s wholly satoru resides. it’s your favorite flavor. his tongue never asks permission to enter your mouth—it just does, licking up every bit of you that’s on offer, and it never satisfies his appetite.

“what was that you said earlier, baby? you want me to eat you, right?” he says between his desperate kisses and fuck, when did everything get so hot all of a sudden? the hand you have on his shoulder slinks up, coming to find its place in the short hairs of his undercut, and when you scrape your nails against his scalp he sighs into your mouth.

“you’re not too full from your desserts?” you tease breathily but it cuts into a gasp of surprise when he yanks your dress up and shoves his hand under the bunched fabric to rip your panties off, only to find your bare skin at his fingertips.

“oh, fuck- no panties, baby? y’want me ta eat that pretty pussy this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer, snatching your lips up in a quick, biting kiss that leaves you dizzy. he drops to his knees—funny how much he’s done that today—and lifts your dress further, gathering the material up at your waist. the way satoru marvels at your pussy is something he’d always done but fuck, can you blame him? you get so wet and you taste like the world’s rarest delicacy on his tongue and you’re so fucking warm and tight when he digs you out—he’d sing hymns about your pussy from the top of a mountain.

“my pretty fiancée givin’ me such easy access…such a sweet girl you are,” he praises with a kiss to your mound, “so fucking good t’me.” but he’s just as good to you—especially now, as he spreads your thighs and hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, unhesitatingly dipping his tongue in between your soaking wet folds. the contact of the slippery muscle on your sensitive flesh has you mewling, eyes slipping shut as he feasts on you. his mouth is as slick as it is when he’s talking, stroking his tongue up and down from your clit to your hole, and back again.

“fffuck- satoru..” you whimper, subconsciously grinding your hips into his face. he doesn’t mind, though- actually he encourages it; he loves it when you use him for your pleasure, makes him feel good to make you feel good. and that rings especially true now, as he stiffens his tongue and slides it into your aching hole that’s been clenching around nothing this entire time. he fucks you with it, much like he does with his cock- giving you a mix of slow and fast thrusts and keeping you on your toes. his large hands smooth up your thighs before one sneaks away to aid in him pulling you apart. his thumb finds your clit, massaging the little button in circles and you almost lose your balance, your hand flying out to grip onto his snow-like hair. your little mewls act as encouragement for the man between your legs; he’s studied you—your body—for years, and how each little flick and roll and curl of his tongue or fingers brings you closer and closer to cumming all over him. and he uses that knowledge so freely, long tongue prodding and pressing further and further into you, tip of the muscle kissing your g-spot.

satoru knows you, knows that when your thighs shake and your breathing turns to panting, he’s got you right where he wants you. you confirm that for him, when you look down at him to see those sparkling blue eyes staring back up at you and you moan “god, fuck- ‘toru, please baby, don’t stop, gonna cum f’you.” he’s ever so obedient, thumb moving in faster circles around your clit and his unrelenting tongue fucking into you just as quick. he keeps his gaze glued to your face because you look so goddamn pretty when you cum that he can’t bear to miss it. and he doesn’t, watching lustfully as your head sinks back against the door, hips stuttering as he licks the orgasm right out of you.

“out of all the meals i’ve had tonight,” satoru starts, lips shiny with your release when you open your eyes again, “you’re the most delicious.” you’d laugh at how corny he is, but your mind still hasn’t come fully back to you yet. satoru rises back to his normal stature of towering over you, even in your heels, and he can’t help but to dip his head down and kiss you. all those same flavors from before are muted behind the taste of you, and you almost hate to admit it, but you like that a lot.

“i need to be inside of you, baby,” satoru sighs into the kiss, leaning down to wrap his big hands around your outer thighs, and you get the idea quickly, letting him pick you up so you can wrap your legs around his hips. he carries you off to the bedroom, laying you down on the plush comforter that covers your bed. you sit back on your elbows and toe your heels off, eyes following his movements as he takes off his blazer.

“god, you look-“

“fuckable?”

“very.”

“so, what are you waiting for? fuck me, fiancé.”

he takes your invitation with fire in his eyes, moving in close to undo whatever horrid contraptions are keeping you clothed. when he gets the zipper down, he’s practically ripping you out of the dress, tossing the expensive garment off somewhere behind him. he’s pulling his own clothes off just as quickly, and when he gets his pants down you can’t help but to feel him through his black boxer briefs. he’s so hard, and he’s leaking like a goddamn faucet, the wet spot you feel near his tip growing larger and larger. he’s groaning against your neck as you touch him, pushing his hips into your palm desperately. but then he decides that he can’t take the teasing and the waiting anymore, so he’s sitting up on his haunches to shove his boxers down his thighs. he doesn’t even get them fully off before he’s grabbing your calf and dragging you towards him, gripping the base of his painfully stiff cock to line it up with your sopping pussy hole.

“ohmy-GOD, fuck- ah! satoru, slow downnnn!!” you gasp, crying out for him as he slams into you with no warning and sets a pace that could rival a jackrabbit.

“s-sorry, baby, jus’ need you- need you so fucking bad, shit- hnnng, fuuuck,” he moans, gripping your hips tight as he keeps hammering into you. you can’t keep your eyes open as much as you’d like to—satoru always looks so angelic when he’s flushed and panting from the vice-like grip your pussy has on him—but it’s okay, because he moans like a bitch in heat when he’s fucking you and that’s all you need. your nails are digging into whatever they can find, one hand twisted up in the blanket and the other pressed against satoru’s flexing abs as if you’re trying to stop him, but you both know that’s not true.

“so. fucking. wet.” he groans, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. he’s so deep inside that you know you’d feel him if you touched your belly, and the thought has tears of pleasure spilling down to your temples and into your hair.

“y-you feel so fucking good- ah- mmm- look so p-pretty taking my cock like this,” he whines, one hand leaving your hip to find your throat. he doesn’t add pressure, doesn’t squeeze, just lets his hand rest there like he needed to ground himself. he finds himself angling his hips just a little differently, and only a moment later, he knows he’s got it when your teary eyes shoot open and you scream his name.

“right there, angel? my fiancée likes it t-there?” he teases, trying his hardest to keep some composure but fuck, it’s so hard when you clench that tight cunt of yours and suck him deeper and deeper.

“yeeessss,” you sob, “please! feels..so good…love you so much, love the way you fuck me..” satoru moans with you, snaking a hand under your lower back to arch you a little more, and the slight change of position has him hitting your g-spot head on with his merciless thrusts. you cum, wordlessly and unexpectedly, and satoru’s eyes widen as he looks down to see the ring of your cream that covers the base of his cock.

“ohhhh f-fuck yeah, angel, cream all over my dick, ‘s all yours, always- always yours,” he gasps.

he brings you fully into his lap and your arms instinctively curl around his neck, your head falling back as he bounces you on his cock that’s impaling you. you’re both covered in sweat now, and your slick, too—it leaks down around satoru’s dick and onto your thighs. the eye contact he makes with you in this moment is hard to look away from, so you don’t—eyes locked with his while you pant and moan and whimper his name. he does the same right back to you, choking out declarations of his love interspersed with your own name.

soon, the position changes again, when you use the little strength you have left to push satoru onto his back with your hands splayed out on his chest. he groans in surprise, sliding his hands up your hips to hold onto your waist. your gaze shifts between his blissed-out face and the sparkling stone that rests on your finger, grinding against him nice and slow.

“does this feel good, satoru?” you don’t mean for the question to come out as seductive as your tone does, but it has his hips bucking up into you nonetheless. his eyes open to find yours and he nods, digging his fingers into your flesh more when you ride him harder, roll your hips a little faster.

“f-fuck, feels like heaven, baby..keep- mmf, keep fucking me like t-that,” he answers, and you’re his sweet girl, his giving little angel, so you do. you keep fucking him just like that, pulling yourself up and dropping back down on the lengthy cock inside of you. your ass smacks against his thighs on the landing, and it joins your ragged breathing and satoru’s huffs as the only sounds in the room. he can’t help but to meet your hips with his own thrusts, not keen on taking the reigns back but adding to the insurmountable pleasure you both feel.

“will you cum with me? please, ‘toru- need to feel you..” god, how could he ever deny you when you ask so sweetly, one hand still on his chest and the other on yours, palming at your tit with a pinch of your pert nipple every now and then. his brow is furrowed—plush lips parted with his moans and he’s nodding in response again.

“yeah, baby, yeah- ‘m so fucking- hah- c-close.” a look of focus forms in his eyes when one of his hands slips down from your waist, nimble fingers toying with your sensitive clit. your moans rise in pitch and volume, heart pounding in your chest as you get closer and closer to the edge. you can practically feel him pulsing inside of you, know he’s almost there too, and you ride with more determination, tits bouncing with the effort. he looks so desperate from his position beneath you, desperate to cum, desperate to fill you to the brim with his hot load. you’re left gasping, shouts of his name torn right from your throat when he plants his feet into the mattress and starts to thrust up into you, fingers still pinching and pulling at your engorged nub. he fucks into you so roughly, eyes shifting between the spot where you conjoin, watching raptly as his cock slides in and out of your hole, and your sweet face, mouth hung open and tear streaks on your cheeks. both are a pretty sight to him.

“‘m gonna cum, ‘toru- cum for me, too, need it inside me so fucking bad,” you whimper, and you weren’t lying. only a few more thrusts and some circles rubbed onto your clit and you’re crying his name, creaming all over his cock again. and satoru can’t hold off anymore, doesn’t want to, and the way you clench and squeeze him makes that an impossible feat anyway. he stills his hips the best he can but they still stutter with the intensity of his orgasm, letting out rope after rope after rope of his sticky fluid inside of your needy little hole.

you roll off of him when you get the strength to do it, still panting with the exertion. but satoru is clingy, even more so after sex; so with your eyes closed, you don’t see it, but rather feel the man’s hands tugging you close. he drapes his sweat-sticky body around yours, nuzzling his face into your neck where he leaves a few cheeky kisses.

“thank you.” it’s silent for a while before he speaks, and the words have you cracking your eyes open to look at him. he’s already beaten you to the punch, wide blue eyes looking up at you.

“for what?” you respond, bringing your hand up to smooth his hair down. he practically purrs at the sensation, but he answers you regardless.

“for saying yes to me, to forever.”

the snort that comes out of you is unintentional, but you can’t help it. he sounds silly thanking you for that, so you tell him as much.

“satoru, you make it sound like you had to bribe me into being with you when you say things like that. y’know, i meant what i said, about you being stuck with me. couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, baby. this just makes it..more official.”

“guess that’s true, huh?”

“you’re damn right. and when we get married, i’m going to use my new powers for evil.”

“what??”

“oh, yeah. i’m gonna terrorize everyone. pranks galore. and i’ll tell them gojo did it. and they’ll just assume it was mr. gojo, not the kind and sweet mrs. gojo.”

satoru’s jaw drops, sitting up to gape at you. you just shrug in response, smiling innocently at your soon to be husband. he shakes his head, deep in thought for a moment before he grins, eyes hard set on you.

“what?” you ask, playfully narrowing your own eyes.

“i think i want to marry you tomorrow.”

>authors_note: WELL. it’s finally here (took me long enough i knowwwww🤫) ENDLESS THANKS FOR 100 (we’re almost at 200 now but let’s cross that bridge when we get there heheh)

>next up: firefighter!satosugu (after like 3 months of me talking about it IM SORRYYY)

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

© loko4koko 2024

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt VIII good omens a spoiler-free trailer

*walks into church, ignoring the gasps of the congregation* *holds mic to a terrified gentleman's face*

Have you ever wondered, what if the flaming sword at the Garden of Eden was insufferably in love with the Serpent?

*doesn't wait for response, shoves mic in shaking lady's face*

What if I told you, your bible studies are incomplete, because they are missing the most important story of all?

*cut to me in front of a white screen, walking seductively toward camera in a suit*

Worry not, for your prayers have been answered. Presenting, Good Omens, a kind-of biblically accurate story by Sir Terry Pratchett and Tumblr's own @neil-gaiman, now a TV show and queerer than ever. All you AO3 slow-burn hoes, we see you. You asked for it, you got it. Childhood friends is so last millennium, we give you instead, six thousand years of mutual pining.

*hard cut to David Tennant, whom I have stuck to a chair with Elmer's glitter glue* *he struggles, in vain*

Starring David Tennant and his signature slutty walk as Crowley, now in a ginger Barbie edition that comes with demonic eyes, every hairstyle and gender you could ever dream of, and instant outfit changes. It really is a miracle!

*camera swivels to focus on Michael Sheen, who is bound in blankets and looking deeply concerned*

Starring Michael Sheen the fae shapeshifter as Aziraphale, the sweetest, most cherubic murderous bitchy angel you've ever seen. Special features include automatic heart-eyes the moment he is faced with Crowley, a charming disregard for casual massacre in the name of God, and the instant outfit changes. Watch him melt your heart before breaking it! Bonus tip: try giving him sushi!

*cut back to the white screen, I am now sitting uncomfortably close to the camera*

Follow Aziraphale and Crowley as they alternatively try to follow and thwart God's ineffable plan, managing to spectacularly fail at both tasks with a consistency that amazes as it befuddles. Featuring alcohol, a bookstore, and metaphorical and literal fire as things get a little... heated in the Bible fandom.

*crossfade to Soho, I walk along the street as the camera follows me*

If that isn't enough to convince you, presenting also, idiot lesbians giving an ancient demon love advice, sexy horsepersons of the apocalypse, an unofficial wedding combined with burning Nazis alive where the most important part is the handing over of a suitcase, and the sexiest MILF witch Agnes Nutter, a literal bombshell.

*cut to disturbing close up of Neil Gaiman's face* *he tries to step away, and is met with my camerapersons*

Watch Neil Gaiman give you hope and shatter it again repeatedly, in a show where the literal apocalypse is only the background to a forbidden idiots who are lovers-to-lovers who are idiots story that is older than Time itself. Armageddon takes a backseat as Crowley serves gender, and if you thought the Antichrist was adorable, wait till you see him in Good Omens, where his evil powers are directed towards being the cutest kid he can possibly be.

*cut back to white screen, I smile ominously while twirling a human bone*

Good Omens, at your nearest Amazon Prime, with free UST, fluff, Queen, and plenty of tears. Don't miss it!

*text rapidly rolls across screen*

[Imagery has been used for representative purposes. No David Tennant, Michael Sheen or Neil Gaiman was harmed in the process of creating this advertisement. Good Omens will have expected side-effects, including unprompted sobbing, a Pavlovian reaction to bandstands, nightingales, holy water and 'the final fifteen', heartache for the foreseeable future, and intense lust for Crowley's elusive gender. Asmi is not responsible for any consequences resulting from the advertised product. Some features have been excluded from the advertisement due to space and time constraints.]

[izunx]

4:27 PM

Osamu didn’t know how to feel about spending his day off with his loving, doting wife in a shopping mall on a blistering hot day.

“y/n my feet are beginning to ache.”

Osamu whined despite insisting on carrying the 20 shopping bags of items you diligently picked out.

“haya… come on my lovely you’ll live”

you were scouting the area for a food place -

“if you’re looking for a food place, just give up, nothing will be as good as MY onigiri shop” he puffed his chest out with pride.

you gave him an intense side eye, facing him and grabbing his cheeks.

“pfft yeah. whatever you say sweet cheeks”

“I promise you I’ll make you the best onigiri when we go home, so for the love of-”

“OKAY OKAY”

giving up, you sped towards the exit of the mall.

“see the kind of effect I have on you?”

“you’re so cringe, shut up”

“you’re the one calling me stupid cringy nicknames”

“sweet cheeks is NOT cringy.”

“delusion is a scary thing”

you were quick to smack his head top, not holding back on your strength either.

“was that supposed to hurt?”

“osamu, I swear i’ll poison you the next time I cook.”

“can you even cook, it’s always ME cooking”

“fine then, let me cook all by myself today!”

“if I let you do that we won’t have a home anymore.”

…

“I’m not talking to you anymore”

you opened the car door and sat in the passenger seat with your arms crossed, not making any attempt to help load the bags in the trunk.

“relax babe I’ll just supervise you then and make sure you don’t poison me”

“you underestimate me, I’ll find a way you just wait”

after loading the bags in, he started the car and smirked at you.

“I’d be okay with getting poisoned by you anyways.”

“YOU’RE SO CRINGE” but despite saying that, you had the cheesiest smile on your face.

“my bad mrs”

after arriving home, you were quick to change and put on your husbands love heart apron.

“are you sure you wanna do this? I can make something in 10 minutes”

“NO. I wanna do this myself since you think i’m a useless lazy housewife.”

“come on babe, you know I never said that”

“shut up, watch me cook”

manoeuvring the useless tools in your hands, you were shaking the pan with the old rice in it.

your feeble attempt at making egg fried rice, wasn’t actually the worst.

“I knew I married the best woman”

you had a smug smile on your face, conjuring up an evil plan to get back at him for his earlier comment.

“yeah yeah, everyone knows that” you loaded up the teaspoon with salt before placing some of the rice over it.

“here sweetcheeks, come try some of this”

you shoved the spoon into his unknowing mouth and you cackled at the horror on his face.

not even trying to swallow it, he spat it back out onto you.

“that’s DISGUSTING”

you pouted and stood over him displeased.

“don’t look at me like that, you almost tried killing me!”

your pout cracked into a smile and you went back to plate up the food.

“I’m NOT eating that.”

“I promise it’s not that concoction I fed you”

“oh so you purposely tried to kill me, that’s fine too”

“I’m sorry ‘samu, you’re my sexy husband I would never try do that”

“pfft, cringe”

“shut up.”

staring at the food in front of him, he was skeptical.

“It’s not poisoned man just TRY IT”

you shoved another spoon of rice into his mouth, but this time, his face was of delight.

“I told you i’m a better cook than you” your arms were crossed with triumph and you smiled brightly.

“I love being married to you”

your smile softened and you just stared at him.

“I love you too.”

[leahsflwer]

Orange Cassidy dating head-canons 🧡🍊

Warnings: Mentions of smut, adult content included, fluff, daring content, possessiveness, couple things, you get it

Requested by: @yrgirlkaila 😚

James Cipperly (Orange) x Reader

Orange Cassidy masterlist || AEW masterlist || Request

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - This man will be staring into your eyes when you talk to him, are near him, anytime he wants, as you can’t tell what he’s looking at with his shades on most of the time

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - He will never admit to being affectionate but he is very touch deprived and wants to be close to you all the time

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Due to that same fact alone, he is secretly protective and addicted to kissing you (especially around others who he thinks fancy you even the smallest amount)

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Only time he makes stupid jokes and laughs about it, is when he sees you drinking orange juice as he quotes “You’re drinking me”. In his mind, he finds the dirty joke hilarious, while you’re just confused by his random sense of humour

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Orange doesn’t let a soul hurt you. If they do, they’re going to be facing the “Best friends” Chuck especially. He will beat up anyone with Orange because they care for you like one of them in the group.

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - JEALOUS! He gets so jealous, he reminds you all the time how your lips belong to him and you don’t mind it at all

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Orange finds you cute when you beg, both in a sexual and none sexual way, he just loves it and teases you into doing it often

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - He is a quiet man, so his way of comforting you when you’re upset or after you both argue. Is either having you sit in front on him so he can play with your hair. Or he will have you sit on his lap (straddling him) while you hide your face in the crook of his neck

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - This man won’t mind putting his shades on you, but don’t try and take them off him, he loves his sunglasses and doesn’t appreciate anyone touching them unless he lets them, which is basically only you

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Riding. He is obsessed with you on his lap riding him. No one gets why he always has you on his lap, but you know why because of his love of you riding him at any pace you please

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - He is oddly more turned on after an intense match. Where he could be covered in scratches, a few bruises or even blood dripping down him, it turns him on. Orange is strange

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Orange Cassidy doesn’t use his long hands only with fighting in the ring, he also uses them on you. Mostly to put around your throat, while he claims you. He didn’t think about the idea until he put it there once and heard you whimper under his touch. It has been one of his favourite things since

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Doesn’t care about getting caught while you two have sex. He does not give a damn. If they walk in (most likely Chuck) he will just stare at them for a second and then continue with you

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - With you he does end up talking quite a lot, about things he loves. Including the aquarium, wrestling, anything he likes. He will rant and you can just smile as you listen and talk just as much back to him.

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Orange Cassidy is like an evil orange cat, so you will have to deal with him purposely playing on his intrusive thoughts, or you can do the exact same 🤷🏻‍♀️

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Don’t ever try and wear blue denim jeans and jacket because he will hate it. He doesn’t mind if you wear just the jacket or just the jeans, but wear both and he will call you a copy cat. He just prefers you in your own style.

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - He is not a man who is turned on with a partner in lingerie or sexy clothing. He loves you in his shirts or a bra and his shorts. Gets him in seconds and you know it.

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Old people sometimes ask you if he is your body guard because of his faceless expression, the glasses and his stance when walking around with you.

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Randomly likes you to come out with him to the ring when he has a match. Finds you adorable when you slap the mat and cheer him on, it just gives him the boost to get up and keep fighting his enemy in the ring.

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Acts like he doesn’t want you to praise him, but he fucking loves it and always want to hear more of it from you.

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Because of that same thing, he will give you the best oral. Whether it’s him eating you out or him fingering you, he will give you all the orgasms he can just to get praise out of you

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - He isn’t that into blowjobs or anything of the sort, if you wanted to give him anything close to that, it would be a handjob. He loves how soft your hands are.

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Thinks about how cute you look as you stand in front of him and play with the strings on his pants 👖makes him soft or warm inside, depending on how you’re playing with it

‧₊˚ 🍊 ⋅ ☆ - Overall love Orange Cassidy 👍🏻

[jaytriesstrangerthings]

Booty *SO* Bodacious

wc: 952, stranger things, steddie, transmasc!Eddie, mature

Steve’s ass is globular in a way that Eddie is pretty sure means only Atlas could hold it up. Like that absolute dump truck has its own gravitational pull to it. Eddie would know, because he can’t fucking escape it’s orbit. He tries to look away periodically, shifting his focus as best as he can manage to the task at hand: beating Steve at pool. But what’s he supposed to do when Steve fucking bends himself over the table to “get the perfect shot” on his turn? Eddie is just a man, so when Steve's ass is right in his line of sight, looking like two perfect watermelons sitting next to each other, Eddie's gonna look.

And let it be clear that Eddie’s not objectifying Steve. He sees the person attached to the ass, and he knows Steve’s heart is just as big, if not bigger, than his bodacious booty.

Still, Eddie wants a bite of that cake. He wants a bite so bad he’s practically drooling. 

Steve’s definitely doing it on purpose right? It must be a tactic to make sure he wins, because Eddie always wins when they play the text version, and Steve’s super competitive.

Steve’s so hot when he’s competitive. To be fair, he’s always hot, but the point stands.

Steve doesn’t have this advantage over text because if he sends an ass pic, Eddie can just wait to take his turn at 8-ball until he’s calmed down enough to focus.

Here, Eddie cannot fucking focus. He’s not even sure if he’s supposed to be going for solids or stripes, honestly, nor does he care.

Steve’s gorgeous globes are right fucking there. So grabbable. Eddie has never been so jealous of a pair of jeans in his life.

God they hug Steve perfectly. That shits gotta be fucking custom, tailored specifically to house Steve’s delicious buns. They’re practically painted on and leave nothing to Eddie’s imagination, not that he has to imagine it. He’s been blessed enough to eat that astonishing ass on multiple occasions, and somehow, this feels more obscene.

It shouldn’t take this long for Steve to take the shot, right? Or maybe time has simply ceased to exist, and Eddie’s free to ogle infinitely.

The pool balls clack against each other as they roll around the table, and Steve stands up straight. Though, that’s not really what he does. He kinda drags himself up all sexily, back arched and ass shoved back towards Eddie, lingering there for a moment before pushing himself up fully.

“Your turn, Eds,” he says with an evil sexy little smirk, turning to face Eddie with a hop and an adorable tilting of his head, perfect hair bouncing a little. “You’ve got some drool there, babe.”

Steve has the audacity to wipe the corner of Eddie’s mouth with his thumb. Eddie kinda wants to take it in his mouth and suck on it. But they’re like, in public.

Very rarely is Eddie glad he doesn’t have a “real” dick but right now he’s grateful he went with a simple metoidioplasty without the vaginectomy instead of a full phalloplasty with a penile implant cause he’s fucking bricked to high heavens right now. Like if he shifts his hips just right he’d probably be able to rub his t-dick against the crotch of his jeans. His cunt is fucking throbbing.

He needs to finish this stupid game of pool as soon as humanly possible, so he can get Steve home and devour him. Or have Steve devour his probably very much leaking pussy.

“I know what you’re doing,” Eddie accuses, squinting his eyes and trying his best to glare at Steve.

Steve tilts his head again, all innocent and sweet, “Whatever are you talking about, sweetie?” He bats his eyes and smiles, cunning and mischievous.

Doing his best not to stimulate his dick as he moves, Eddie swipes the pool cue off the table. He genuinely can’t remember if he’s stripes or solids, but there’s more solids on the board than there are stripes, so Eddie’s got a pretty good guess.

It’s not like he has a bad ass or anything, it’s just that it’s more like a sheet cake than the 12-tier masterpiece Steve’s got. Obviously Steve finds Eddie attractive, tells him so damn near constantly - it’s done wonders for Eddie’s ego - but Steve is not nearly as easily distracted as Eddie is. Maybe it’s the HRT and it’s habit of making Eddie incredibly fucking horny all the damn time. It gives Steve an unfair advantage that’s so very easy to abuse.

Steve’s ass is a lethal weapon. Eddie’s is more like one of those retractable toy knives, fun to play with, but not particularly demanding of attention. The strategy of ass-distraction - asstraction if you will - is only effective coming from one of them, and obviously it’s not Eddie. That doesn’t mean Eddie isn’t willing to try, however.

Eddie leans down and wiggles his hip with his ass facing Steve, which would be great if it was at all effective at anything other than rubbing his stupidly hard dick against the rough denim of his jeans.

Giving up, Eddie aims towards the solid that looks like it’ll be the easiest to pocket and shoots. Only after launching the cue ball does he realize the solid he aimed at was the fucking 8 ball, and he just lost. Typically he’d be incredibly frustrated with himself for making that mistake, but frankly, that was the fasted way to end the game, and now he has the freedom to drag Steve back to their place and fuck nasty.

“Oh no, Eds,” Steve pouts, all exaggerated puppy eyes and puffed out kissable bottom lip. “You lost.”

[hauntedwizardmoment]

director's commentary for the chunk from "hollowed out and filled with feathers" that starts with "That night, after they’re settled into their room for the night..." and ends with "he's incredible at his job" 👀

oh my god YAY hollowed out is. kind of my baby <3 theyre all my babies but hollowed out is where Cool Girl Thesis lives and i love Cool Girl Thesis. i stand by my cancelled husband evil bisexual purse dog jace stardiamond. i love it when characters have no sense of their identity outside of what other people demand from them and are driven to madness by their own. well. hollowness.

so like. right before the start of this:

That night, after they’re settled into their room for the night (and the route to Sunpeak is charted out), he buys them several cases of the cheapest beer he can find, and pulls out a deck of cards for Porter’s favorite game. “Strip poker?”

we have porter giving jace a direct order to relax. and like, jace is clearly not relaxed. he's about to watch peregrine (guy he was in love with) and aurora (his fundie ex-coworker who ruined his life) get married. but porter gave him an order, so this is him making a show of how relaxed he is. they're gonna play a game porter likes but jace himself doesn't really care for. it doesnt help jace relax but it makes porter think jace is relaxed, is chill, is Cool Girl, and thats what matters

He loses deliberately, plays terribly on purpose and ignores the math in his head telling him exactly what cards Porter has. The tepid beer tastes disgusting and leaves his mouth dry, but he downs it anyways. Wills his shoulders to slouch, tosses his hair back and laughs as he unbuttons his shirt slowly, teasing, after Porter wins again. The goal is to relax, and godsfuckingdammit, he’ll show Porter how relaxed he can be.

jace dumbing himself down, drinking beer he doesnt like, and playing up the flirty act because again, he gets that when porter says "relax" he doesnt mean "curl up in bed doing crosswords and watch medical dramas until you fall asleep" he means "do something that i find fun and sexy, but don't be better than me because that's threatening."

He’ll show all of them just how much better he’s doing. 

and it's all a show because he's still deeply bitter and angry about losing his party and getting replaced.

His laughter turns genuine after the fifth beer, when he’s down to just his underwear and Porter’s still fully clothed. Even with the capital-P Plan and the thought of seeing his old party weighing on him, Porter still manages to make him smile. “You make me so, so happy,” he’s tipsy and stupid, just the way Porter likes him. “I was so lost without you,” he says, as a pair of strong, firm hands wrap around his waist, holding him still. When Porter lays him out, pins his wrists to the bed and conquers him, he doesn’t need to lie to himself.

there is a part of jace that likes not being so high strung! porter brings that out in him, teases out a humor, a lightness, an ease! hollows him out and fills him with feathers! he wants the persona to be real so badly, to actually be as Chill and Easy as porter thinks he is. he's able to lose himself in alcohol and sex and finally, genuinely relax by the end of this scene, but it's fleeting! he wants it to be real!

i won't lie here and say that i did this on purpose as foreshadowing for LSOP fic because this series is very much "whatever situation i can think to put jace in next" but in hindsight, this is like, very sad when you compare this jace to him in "his tomb by the sounding sea" who is dealing with the ramifications of actually being put in a place where he doesnt have to worry about being in control anymore.

and of course then we cut to:

Let it be known that he’s a complete idiot. A pretty face with nothing to back him up. And as of three days ago, even that’s up for debate.

jace POV for scene iv of "burn away the goodness, you and i remain" before he goes out and faces porter. he's been barely-conscious for three days and he's finally lucid enough to hate himself again!! yippee!! his lies have caught up with him and he's being punished for just how easily he caved to porter:

The problem is that he bought his own bullshit. He actually let himself believe he was the version of himself he invented for Porter: fun, easygoing, unchallenging and uncomplicated. Up for anything and everything, from petty theft to dangerous spellwork to erotic roleplay. He’d made sure any disagreements between them were reserved for the trivial, nothing that would ever get in the way of what Porter wanted or needed from him. Sanded down his edges, made himself the perfect partner and acolyte.

and the minute he disagreed with him, showed any sign of resistance, porter killed him over it and made sure that he wouldnt be able to do that again. this is the schrodinger's cat at he heart of starbreaker, to me: does porter care about jace, or was jace only a stepping stone in The Plan? how much of porter's care for him is an act/manipulation, and how much of it is genuine?

He’d forgotten love, for him, is always predicated on deception. If he was going to lie, he should have been prepared to keep it up forever.

jace genuinely believes this too </3 i dont think hes ever been genuine with anyone in his entire adult life, not since he learned that lying gets you what you want faster and easier and it only backfires when people find out

 He looks completely fucked and utterly unfuckable.   A chill runs through him when he remembers that it’s his own spellcraft that did this, ripped his control to shreds and gave the tattered pieces to someone else. Even now, he can feel an unfamiliar current of magic writhing beneath his skin, alive and with a mind of its own. The sensation turns his stomach, makes bile rise in his throat.

i think i'm like so preoccupied with "lack of control" being one of jace's worst fears because of how sorcerers are in rules-as-written d&d? like it's literally described as innate magic but idk man anything thats come innately to me has still always required me to hone whats already there with precision until it goes from good to really fucking good. also yay to jace selling a piece of himself to porter and for physical descriptions of magic, which i am also very preoccupied with.

He won’t let Porter see how much he’s falling apart.  If he pretends that he’s fine, then he is fine. He can still be everything Porter needs and wants, irreplaceable. He’s incredible at his job.

he's still fighting! he's so angry and spiteful in this, he can't even imagine letting the mask slip mere days after coming back to life. back to work, the show must go on! he's honestly mortified that there were three days where he didnt have the mask on. the performance is forever and it will take everything from him <3

[lavenderdreams22]

Violence and Love Letters - e.m.

A/N: hope you guys enjoy this! I’m in an Eddie mood lately, so I needed to get this out of my system. feedback is always welcome, just please be nice! ❤️

Warnings: cursing, violence. as always, very quickly edited. I think that’s really it, but let me know if you need me to add anything else here!

It was a shock to no one that Eddie Munson was now, and had always been, the type to humiliate himself. When he was younger, it had always been accidental. Now that he was nearing adulthood, he found himself doing it on purpose more and more.

It had started out as his way to take some control back when he started getting bullied, but, as time went on, and he got older, it became second nature. And, even though everyone at Hawkins High was used to his theatrics, very few actually tolerated it.

He had the guys in his band, the little sheepies in Hellfire, and then there was you. You were the type that people wrote songs about (he would know, he had written you about 25). You were a blinding, beautiful light that illuminated the depths of his mind when he started to spiral. You were the first person he called when his antics had gone too far, and you were always, without question, the first to let him live it down.

He had called you after a particularly violent encounter with Jason Carver, and he came over to your house. As your fingers worked over the cuts and bruises on his face, he had the chance to really look at you. He had never been able to take you in before, at least, not up close and personal like this. God, you were beautiful, and he didn’t miss the anger burning in your eyes.

The next day at lunch, Jason came into the cafeteria with a black eye and a busted lip.

“Woah, what the hell happened to him?” Gareth’s voice was low to avoid drawing attention to their band of misfits.

Eddie’s eyes followed Jason from the door to his table before slowly sliding his gaze to you. You kept your gaze trained on your food that you had brought from home. With a quick once over, he noticed that your knuckles were bloody, and he felt his heart stutter in his chest.

“Did you…?” Eddie whispered.

“No idea what you’re talking about, Munson.” You replied, popping a grape into your mouth.

Eddie grinned at you, then. He let the conversation drop, but you knew it wasn’t over. With a sigh, you eyed him for a moment. He was still grinning as he tucked the memory away. It was one that he wanted to revisit again and again.

*****

Then, there was the infamous chicken salad incident. Your mother had packed it for you, but you spent most of the lunch period with your nose wrinkled at it.

“What’s the problem, princess? Don’t like chicken salad?” Eddie asked, pointing a pretzel at you.

“Not the biggest fan, no.” You shook your head.

“Here, let me get you something from the vending machines?” He said, and when you nodded he smiled at you.

Eddie pushed the chair back, accidentally bumping into a passing cheerleader.

“Ew, watch it. Fucking freak.” She squealed, and her friends laughed behind her.

“The fuck did you just say?” You asked, standing. Your chair nearly toppling over if Dustin hadn’t reached out to steady it for you.

“You heard me,” she gave you an evil little smile.

“I’m gonna need you to repeat yourself.” You were fuming, but you kept your tone quiet. Eddie found that both terrifying and incredibly sexy.

“I called him a ‘fucking freak’.” She repeated, her hands on her hips. “And now that I get a good look at you, I’d say the title fits you both pretty well.”

Before Eddie had the chance to say anything to defend your honor, your chicken salad was flying through the air, hitting the cheerleader square in the chest of her pristine little uniform.

“What the hell!” The shrill sound of her voice rang out through the lunchroom.

“I gave you a chance to shut the fuck up.” You said with a shrug. “Go away.”

“Are you kidding me?” Another shriek.

“I would listen to her if I were you.” Eddie mimicked your shrug, and with a scoff the girls turned on their heels and stalked out of the lunch room.

When he turned back to look at you, you shot him a grin that he was sure stopped his heart completely. He stood there for a moment, letting everything sink in. God damn… he was in trouble. But he wouldn’t have it any other way.

*****

“Hey princess.” Eddie grinned down at you from the door of his trailer.

“Hey, Eds.” You gave him a small wave. “Can I come in?”

“Course you can.” He stepped to the side, holding the screen door open for you.

You stepped over the threshold and were met by the distinct smell of Eddie. You inhaled as discreetly as you could, but Eddie didn’t miss it. He never did, and sometimes you found yourself cursing him for being so damn observant.

“Sorry, smells like weed and booze in here.” He chuckled, running an embarrassed hand through his hair.

“No, smells nice. Like your aftershave.” After the words left your lips, you felt the blush creep up your neck.

“So, you like the way I smell, then?” He winked at you before gesturing down the hall to his room. His face scrunched up, again embarrassed by where he lived. “Sorry it’s not the White House.” His voice was quieter than normal, and you felt your heart sink.

“Eds… it’s perfect.” You patted his shoulder, “just like you.” You shoved past him to get to his bedroom. “Can’t believe you’ve never invited me over before now.”

He grinned as he watched you move around the room, your finger tracing over various knick knacks. He would never tell you that the reason he had avoided having you over for so long was because if he got to see you in his space, with his things, he would never want you to leave.

Truth be told, you never wanted to leave, either. Eddie had always felt like home to you. So, with unspoken words, and coveted feelings, the two of you spent the entire night in his bed, passing a blunt between the two of you while Black Sabbath played in the background.

*****

About a month later, Eddie had asked you to copy your notes. You handed him your notebook without thinking. Your notebook that you had scribbled his name in various calligraphies in the margins. The same notebook that you had written love note after love note, dedicated to Eddie, in. You had never intended for him to see them, but you realized your mistake a moment too late.

The sound in your bedroom turned to static, as he sat there, his eyes trained on the page as you chewed nervously on your bottom lip.

“Eddie?” Your voice cracked, and his gaze snapped to you.

“Do you mean these things you wrote?” He asked, his tone just as tentative as yours.

“Every word.” You nodded. “Didn’t mean for it to come out like this, but…” with a shrug, you reached for the notebook.

His face split into a dopey grin, and you felt the weight of the world fall off your shoulders as he traced over the words with a finger.

“So, you meant it when you said ‘Every day I fall more in love with you’?” He asked, “or what about, ‘your eyes remind me of coming home’.”

“Yup, even that.” A small smile, “I don’t expect you to feel the same, obviously.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” He closed the notebook and reached out both hands, taking your hands in his. “I have been crazy about you since you decked Carver in the face.”

“You have?” You blinked, and you were sure that the confusion was evident on your face.

“Oh yeah. I always thought I was being obvious, but it seems like the only person that didn’t know how I felt was you. Wasn’t a secret.” He pulled you into his arms by your hands, and, with a yelp, you settled in. Your head rested over his heart, and you swore you could hear the words that neither of you had dared speak aloud. I love you.

[jungwonenthusiast]

hi! i read one of your heeseung smuts and i fell in love with your writing! so i was wondering if i could request a smut with sunghoon when he founds out that the reader is obsessed with his thighs, and that leads to thigh riding the reader leaving hickeys all over his thighs.

for some reason lately ive just been so obsessed with sunghoons thighs. i just have a feeling that theyre really pretty hehe, anyways, have a good day or night! keep weiting amazing things🥰✨😌

A/N: hi! Thank u so much for your kind words <3 sorry this is so late i just lost motivation for a bit lol

Warnings: fem! reader x soft dom! sunghoon, thigh riding, unprotected sex, fingering

Word count: 1.6k

You drop to your knees and kiss the insides of his thighs through his jeans as he sits at the edge of the couch, legs spread and ready for you to suck him off.

“What’s with you and this?” he asks and you look up.

“What do you mean?”

He leans down and picks your chin up. “I’ve never met a girl who paid so much attention to my thighs.”

You blush and shrug.

He smirks. “You know I notice the way you stare at them.” he caresses your face. “Whenever I’m dancing, or even when I’m just standing around.”

“Because they’re pretty.” you say sheepishly.

“Come here doll,” he leans down and pulls you into his lap. Like all the way from the floor. He always surprises you with how strong he is. “I wanna try something.”

He pets your hair and kisses your jaw. You loop your arms around his neck with a small smile. He grabs your hips and moves you so that you’re sitting right on his left thigh. Your heart begins to race. Is this really happening? You ask yourself. The thing you’ve been daydreaming about for forever.

His lips move up to meet yours. He knows you inside and out, every touch is with purpose.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he says before pushing his tongue against yours. He holds the small of your back and softly guides you against him.

You moan a bit into his mouth and he smiles.

He leans back onto the couch and pulls your chest against his.

You don't need his guidance anymore, your hips are rocking over him with ease and every time you grind, you just want more and more.

“Feel good?” he rubs your back and you nod into his neck.

“How long have you been wanting to do this?” he asks lowly.

“Months now,” you exhale.

He kisses the side of your head. “My dirty girl, fantasizing about me when she’s all alone in her room.” he squeezes your ass. “Playing with that pretty pussy under the covers.”

You whimper and nod.

“What does my sweet doll think about when she’s touching herself?” he teases and your breath hitches in hesitation. “Don’t be nervous,”

“I think about… you… your hands on me, your lips… your cock,” you say sheepishly. “And doing this.”

He chuckles softly and runs his hands over your sides.

You feel wetness pool in your underwear as you continue to grind over him.

He tugs your underwear to the side and watches your wet cunt move against his thigh. He glides his thumb over your slit then runs his thumb over his tongue.

“Fuck, you taste good,” he smirks and you whimper into his neck.

Your movements become slackened as you get closer to the edge and Sunghoon notices. He grips your hips to give you some assistance.

“Are you close doll?” he smiles and bites down on his lip.

You nod. “Yes, fuck please don’t stop.”

You bury your face into his neck but he holds your head to get you to face him.

“Look at me princess, I wanna see your pretty face when you cum on my thigh.” he smirks and caresses your cheek.

He watches as your eyes shut, brows furrow, and mouth parts open. He could cum just from watching you fall apart in front of him.

Sunghoon rubs your back as you slump against him, winded from your orgasm.

“Look at the mess you made,” he says and you look down at the wet patch on his jeans.

Your cheeks heat up and you cuddle into him, too embarrassed to say anything.

You pull away and drop to the floor again. “I wanna try something.”

You unbutton his jeans and tug them down exposing the pale skin on his thighs. You lean forward and plant a kiss on him. A corner of his lips perks up as your mouth opens to softly slide your tongue against his skin.

He reaches down to pet your hair. “My pretty doll,”

You nod and look at him innocently before gently sucking a small blush on his inner thigh. You can see his hard on straining against his boxers as you continue to leave hickies on his thighs. You also notice how his breathing is getting heavy and how his cheeks are getting pink.

He pulls you into his arms and picks you up. “Let’s go to the bedroom.”

He lays you gently on the mattress. You expect him to settle his hips between yours but instead he lays down on his stomach with his head between your legs.

“What are you doing?” you ask.

“I just wanted to taste you sweetheart,” he kisses your thigh. “Is that alright?”

You nod excitedly and he smiles.

He pulls your underwear to the side before giving you one gentle lick up your slit. Your thighs shut right away, still jittery from your last orgasm but he pushes them open and holds them down with his lean arms.

You squirm under him and he bites your thigh. “Relax sweetheart, let me make you feel good.”

You nod and take a deep breath before he delves into your wet cunt. You feel him moan against you as he french kisses your clit. And soon enough, your legs are shaking and your back is arching off the bed.

You tug at his hair and you feel him smile a bit.

“Please don’t stop,” you whimper. “Feels so fucking good.”

But then he pulls away and you’re so mad you could punch him.

“Sunghoon-ah!” you scold him and he chuckles, lips glossy with your juices.

“What? I can’t have a little fun with you?” he jokes and you roll your eyes.

“I will become cellibate for a whole month if you keep this shit up.” you huff and he comes up to kiss you.

“No no baby, I’m sorry,” he gives you puppy eyes, something only you ever get to see. “Forgive me.”

You can’t help but smile a bit. “Are you really sorry?”

“Mhm,” he nods, his dark hair brushing against his eyelids.

“Fuck me then,” you tease and he smirks.

He tugs his t-shirt over his head and the golden light of his desk lamp is shining against his back, making it look like he’s glowing right in front of you. Like real life Apollo, even though he’s more of the Athena type.

“Whatcha staring at?” he asks quietly. “Am I that hot?”

You scoff and pull him down for a kiss. He softly rubs your thigh before asking: “Ready?”

You nod and pull at his waist, wanting him closer to you. He caresses your cheek before slowly sliding into you.

You bury your head into the crook of his neck to hide your moans but he pulls your face towards his.

He leans down and softly bites the skin on your throat. You whimper and run your fingers through his hair.

“Harder please,” you beg and he smirks. He holds your thighs and pushes your knees towards your chest before pounding into you. You squeal and grip onto the duvet, overwhelmed by how deep he is inside of you.

“Oh my god,” you whisper as his tip brushes against your g spot. You trail your fingers down to rub your clit and he smiles.

“Dirty girl,” he says and you look up at him.

His dark hair is hanging over you and the silver chain around his neck swings with every thrust. His stark features are cut clean and he looks evil and sexy as ever with that determined look on his face.

“Feels so good,” you choke out and he leans down to kiss your forehead.

“So pretty,” he says. “My sweet girl.”

“I- I can’t,” you say, starting to tear up. “It feels too good.”

He pets your hair. “Take it sweetheart, I know you can.”

“I can’t I can’t,” you whimper and he leans down to kiss you, slowing his pace to a delicious grind.

“Yes you can princess,” he says.

“Sunghoon-” you whine. “I’m close.”

He smirks. “Do you want me to go harder?” he asks and you nod eagerly.

“Please,” you say and he holds onto the headboard before snapping his hips into yours.

He holds tight onto your waist with his free hand as your back arches. Your eyes roll back as warm waves of pleasure wash over you.

“Good girl,” Sunghoon coos, “that’s it cum all over this cock.”

His thrusts slow don’t as he releases into you with a low grunt.

You giggle as he slumps on top of you, tired and a bit sweaty. After a few kisses he pulls out and watches his seed drip out of you.

He gets off the bed and picks you up bridal style. “Let’s go take a shower, and maybe we can have some fun there too.”

[dragon-kazansky]

The sexy head tilt thing | Helmut Zemo

Part 1 | Part 2

Warnings: Kinda smutty, but not all the way. I'm evil like that.

You hadn't left your room since Zemo'a visit. You were freaking out in your room. Why had Sam told him that? How could he do that to you?

Eventually you had to leave to get food, but Zemo would be down there waiting.

A knock sounded at your door. You halted and stared at it wide eyed. Your heart dropped.

Is he back already? What am I suppose to do?

"Y/N?"

Oh no, it's Sam. Now you would get that lecture. You took a deep breath before replying.

"Come in."

The door opened and Sam came in. You sit on your bed and stare at him. Never before you felt more scared than you were now.

"Hey Sam," you say, nervous beyond belief.

"You want to tell me what this thing with Zemo is all about?" He crosses his arms over his chest as he stares at you.

"Sam, I don't know what to say."

"The truth. Y/N, if you're in love him, tell me." He didn't sound angry, but his tone of voice was firm and slightly demanding. He very much wanted an answer from you.

"Maybe. I think so." You sigh a should block at he bed covers.

Sam unfolds his arms and sits down next to you. He puts an arm around you and pulls you into his side. You rest your head on his shoulder.

"Look, it's not my business who you have feelings for, but you do realise who he is, right? I need you to understand that this is Zemo we're talking about."

"I know... but I can't help it. I look at him and everything seems to make sense... and then he does that head tilt thing and I lose my mind!"

Sam laughs. It's heartwarming and cheerful.

"What do you want to do about it?" He asks, looking at you.

"For now I'm going to avoid him and hide out here."

"Alright. I'll bring you some food later."

"Thanks, Sam."

He smiles at you before he leaves you alone again. You stay in there for a few more hours, passing the time by actually reading this time. Sam brings up some food for you after a bit and then he leaves you again.

Zemo takes note of your lack of presence. He finds himself missing you the longer you're gone. Every so often his eyes flicker to the stairs, hoping to see you, but you don't appear.

Sam doesn't say anything to him when he returns from bringing you food, but he does look at Zemo. Bucky doesn't seem notice the silent conversation going on.

When the men finish their own dinner, Zemo excuses himself. He makes his way to your room. He stands outside for a moment, listening. There's no sound coming from within and he wonders if you're even awake.

He knocks.

For a minute there is no sound, he knocks once more. If you don't reply this time, he'll leave, but then he hears your voice and he smiles. He opens the door and slips into the room, closing the door behind him.

You stare up at him.

"Good evening," he smiles over at you.

"Hello..."

Zemo takes slow steps over to the bed. He comes to a stop on the side you're sitting on and tilts his head to the side. Now that he knows this is something you like, he's going to use it to his advantage.

You're very clearly trying not to react.

"What can I do for you, Zemo?"

"You didn't join us for dinner."

"Yeah, sorry," you mumble, but he hears you.

"Are you avoiding me?"

"No..."

He gives a little huff of a chuckle and takes a seat on the bed. He's sitting so close your leg is almost touching him.

"I don't believe you." He says it the same way he had before. A shiver runs through your spine as he gazes at you intensely.

"What happens now?" You ask, unsure if you actually wanted to hear an answer.

"What do you want to happen?"

"I don't know," you whisper.

Zemo takes one hand and caresses the side of your face with the back of his fingers. The touch is feather light, but warm. You lean into his touch.

He knows what you want.

He opens his hand and places his palm on your cheek, guiding you to him as leans in and captures your lips halfway. You melt under him as he gathers you in his arms, pulling you to him.

The touch of his lips on yours seals the deal. You're putty in his hands.

Zemo climbs onto the bed, straddling over you as he lays you back against the fluffy pillows. He keeps his hands on you, relishing in the fact he has you like this. How far would you let him go?

Your hands grip at the purple sweater he's wearing, grabbing the material and pulling at it. He chuckles against your lips and pulls back to look at you.

"You're not pushing me away."

"Should I be?"

"Probably, but I'm not complaining. You first, Liebling."

"Me first?"

His hands trail down your torso until they reach the hem of your top. His fingers slide underneath and make their way up again, this time trailing along your skin. The rise and fall of your chest increases the higher he goes. He smirks as he claims your lips again.

The cool air of the room brushes against your skin as he lifts your top over your head. You stare up into his hypnotic eyes. He tosses the clothing to the side, it's purpose no longer needed. His hands touch every single spot of exposed flesh, his lips litter kisses from your jaw, to your neck, down your chest.

Oh God, the way he makes you feel cannot be put into words.

He runs his fingers down your torso again, those digits make real fast work of undoing your trousers, they're off you so quick. He hooks a hand under your knee and brings it up to rest at his hip, his fingers applying a little pressure to the bare flesh there.

"Well this is unfair," you make him look at you.

"What's unfair?" He does the head tilt.

"Stop that! You're still dressed," you whine.

"No, and I'm aware."

"Take it off." You tug at the purple garment obscuring your view.

"You take it off, Liebling," he grins.

You lean up, he lets go of your leg and watches as you grab the hem of his sweater. His eyes don't move from your gaze as you pull the clothing from him. You toss it to the side along with yours and wrap your arms around his shoulders. You plant your lips on his again and lose yourself in the feeling of his bare arms around you.

Every kiss, every touch, every sound forces out of you, lights something within you.

You push him back so he's laying back on the bed. You straddle him, moving your hands down to his belt. The laugh that escapes him rumbles through his chest. He doesn't touch you until undress him like he did for you. Now, neither one of you had much left on.

"I want you to know I was thinking about this over dinner while speaking with Sam and James."

"Really?" You lean over him until your nose nearly touches his.

"Yes, really."

"What were you thinking about?"

"I was thinking about all the ways I could get you to scream my name. I imagined how many orgasms I could give you."

He could feel the way you clenched your muscles.

"I also thought about how risky it is that we're doing this when your friends are down the hall."

"I guess that's a risk I'm just willing to take."

Zemo claims your lips again.

Sam and Bucky were sitting in the living room in awkward silence. From the moment Zemo left, Sam knew exactly where he was heading. Bucky was looking at him dangerously.

"He's with Y/N, isn't he?"

"He might be."

Sam looked at Bucky stoically.

"Is he going to be there in the morning?" Bucky practically growls.

"Depends on what Y/N decides to do."

"You're OK with this?" Bucky glares.

"Hell no, but I'm not here to tell them what to do. I trust Y/N to be responsible, and I very much doubt Zemo is going to murder them in their sleep."

"Do you hear yourself?"

"Yeah, I do. Sit tight, pretend you don't know they're up there together, and when they get up tomorrow, be nice." Sam gives a sarcastic grin.

"I hate this."

"We have that in common, now shut up."

Neither you or Zemo were up early the next morning. It was around noon when Zemo emerged from your room to get you breakfast. He greeted Sam and Bucky like nothing had happened, then returned to you.

Bucky curled his hand into a fist.

"I'll kill him."

"No you won't."

@ajeff855 @moonstuffsteve @sky-writes-stuff @lieutenantn

[sukirichi]

I was reading your good stuff 😳

And I got an idea for you (if you haven’t heard it yet)

You call yourself trophy right? Well imagine being punished and you have to stay still like a little beautiful figurine for him to show at reunion. And he would purposely tease you to see how much you can handle it until he can just go rough with you 🥰

ABSOLUTELY SCREAMING RN. ALSO I CHANGED IT A LIL BIT, I can’t imagine Naoya punishing his pretty trophy wife when she’s been a good girl for him 🥺 THANK YOU NONNIE FOR THIS A BIG MWAH

# cw. overstimulation, vibrating panties, sexy husband naoya, teasing, REALLY SUB READER

# part of the trophy wife collection 

naoya would actually do that. he loves to see you squirm and clutch onto his bicep, trying to keep a smile that doesn’t waver in front of his relatives. naoya is more than proud of his wife, he flaunts you off like the trophy wife you are, and the fact you’re submissive and always letting him do as he pleases with you? it’s safe to say that naoya cherishes you. and on top of cherishing you, he also deeply enjoys teasing you just to see if you really mean it when you once promised, “anything for you, naoya-sama.”

so when he gifts you a set of vibrating panties on the exact day there’s a huge family reunion in the zen’in estate, he peers at you with narrowed, predatory eyes, daring you to say no. you’ve always been sensitive, always been whiny and unable to hold back those sweet, little moans that can make him untouched.

but you’re his beloved trophy wife — the pride of the clan leader — of course you’re going to wear it.

with a smug smile, naoya pockets the wireless remote down his black slacks. you wear the panties without shame and hide it beneath your robes, breath already labored even though he hasn’t turned it on. naoya lets you dangle off his arm as he leads you into the lobby to welcome his guests, bowing and voice as meek as ever to greet his relatives that are still left in awe how you gaze at your husband with so much adoration despite his crudeness. you understand it doesn’t make sense to most, but does it have to? with the promise you do your duties as his trophy wife to sit still and be pretty, naoya doesn’t fail to keep his vow of fulfilling his role as man and your husband.

and when one of those roles implemented bringing pleasure — with a little bit of sweet torture — then naoya zen’in would be more than glad to do so. 

you’re entertaining the guests, head tipped back in honey laughter and gentle hands placed over your heart like you’re every form of an angel that shone in comparison to your husband who couldn’t be attributed to the same league. he loves it, loves that you’d do anything for him, loves that your giggles turn choked and stuttered the moment he turns the vibrating panties on.

your reaction is every bit gratuitous as he expected. a slight falter in your steps, innocent and helpless eyes immediately searching for him in the crowd. he feels a little bad and places himself right beside you, allowing you to cling onto him like a little koala staring up at him with quivering lips.

he knows that face all too well.

you’re pleading, begging, hoping — but you’d never vocalize it. naoya smirks down at you and cups your cheeks with one large hand, swiping a thumb over those soft lips that may look so demure right now, but would eventually string out the dirtiest moans along with his name falling like a prayer. and he’s addicted, obsessed that you worship him this much that he can’t help but increase the power in your panties.

zaps of pleasure course through you until you’re panting, eyes shut tight and nails digging through his suit. your cheeks falls on his shoulder, legs trembling and sweat beginning to form on your hairline. 

your chest heaves up and down from the shockwaves of the intensity that blooms right at your pussy. you’re wet, dripping wet, rubbing your thighs together in desperation to feel more. and oh, you wanted more? you really shouldn’t be so transparent all the time because your husband watches you with amusement clear all over his eyes, palming the object inside his pockets to reach max power.

it’s too much, way too much, and you’re minutes away from cumming. 

the sensation of having your wet pussy lips teased and shaken, the little sparks of vibration hitting your sensitive bundle of nerves. the static pleasure makes you bite down on your lip to muffle the little whimpers naoya’s effortlessly elicited from you. 

you look so pretty — mouth falling open in a desperate attempt to call for him, tell him your needs, beg for him, moan for him. but you’re surrounded by his entire clan that you know you need to behave, and naoya raises a brow challengingly, prompting if you have the temerity to act out. he already knows you won’t, you’re too good for him, after all, but he’s enjoying seeing you like this. so wanton, so helpless, so needy for his cock even with everyone around. he’ll reward you later — you just need to wait.

“too much?” he rasps in your ear, disguising his evil smirk by tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “you know i won’t stop, right? this reunion will last until midnight. think you can be a good girl and hold on for me?”

“y-yes.”

“you sure, angel?”

“yes.”

“yes, what?” his gaze hardens at the same moment his hands clasp at the back of your neck, his grip tight enough to remind you he isn’t keen of you slipping away from the behavior he expects of you.

“yes, sir.”

“good.” naoya rarely praises you with words, but every time he does, it never fails to make your panties soaked a little more. he can tell you’re pleased with the smoothness of his suave manners and words, hopelessly and madly in love with him just as you did the first time you met him. 

which is why he knows, you’ll take this like a good girl, and naoya ducks down to hover his lips right beside your ear. “keep them on for me the whole time and don’t cum until i say so. if you succeed, i might just reward you.”

[paradoxlemonade]

I would LOVE to see some of the responses about grian from the survey

I put most of the interesting responses for any hermit on the highlight reel, but I know I missed a few good ones, so here's EVERY response Grian got!

[Quotes are unedited. All typos are in-context and original to the respondent.]

"His face would be round in just the right way if it wasn't square. Also, waffle & chaos."

"I don't know I like his mischievous nature"

"I just think he's neat lol. He's cute, got good vibes and he can build lmao."

"Evil."

"He has a pleasant face, and I like the shape of his arms and his genuine bright-as-the-sun smile when he is holding both his cats. I love his voice and the way he laughs when something goes wrong, or even worse, when something goes right. Men with higher/lighter voices in general are very appealing to me, as my voice is perhaps my only true source of dysphoria. He causes problems on purpose and that is very sexy and cute of him <3 he is also bird, which is just peak character design let's be real."

"He's silly and generally kind. He also has a nice laugh."

"Biased to favorite"

"There's something about him being a little gremlin who loves to create chaos"

"Idk he just looks nice"

"Probably bc I had a half crush on Grian's character in YHS when I was younger, and bc I find his voice and personality attractive? Irdk otherwise "

Looking back, there are definitely a few that could have made the highlight reel, but that thing was already two posts and long enough. Hope this satisfied your curiosity :]

[muffindaddystyles]

Hershey Fucker.

Author's Note; here lies the great memory of long hair Harry. Long gone but never forgotten. A smut to make you clench your legs together, *laughs in evil*. Don't forget to gimme some love :(

Kaleidoscopic lights flares around you as you stirred the straw of your margarita dodging the glunk of strawberry. Your eyes anchored at the spindiling lean figure of the emerald eyed monster, jaw tight that of greek god, umber spiral of curls kissing the sharply cuts of his face and it glows as if he has used your highlighter.

You scoff when he puckers his lips around the rim of whiskey giving a fist bump in praise.

It's been going on from the time you stepped inside the club. He's being a pain in arse. Having none of shame giving a harsh squeeze to your butt while leading you, leaning close to whisper words straight outta dirty erotica, throwing you his signature cocky smirks and brush of noses while he adjusted his daddy long legs nudging them in between your knees as you both sat on the high-stools of the bar.

You shake your head in exasperation smiling to yourself when he caught the wrist of bartender pointing at it with slurred eyes and bubbly lips, "nice tat, lad. looks sexy on ya." You know he's trying to make you jealous on purpose and it's quite endearing to see him try.

It makes your pussy weep, in all honesty. The fact that he's flirtatious in nature and when he speaks it feels like roses are falling from his lips would never fail to make you find him more ethereal. He owns that kinky charisma.

He kept on side glancing you while doing his antiques. Chatting with the bartender and complementing him with a lopsided grin, taking your hand for agreement because he's that annoying.

You practically lunges over him straddling his knee to brush your crimson coated lips agaisnt his earlobe while you whisper.

"Wanna go home." He furrows his brows together clearing his throat and gesturing you with his sparkling daunting gaze ','s that so?' when you sit back leaving a satisfied red smudgnes at his earlobe and higher jaw. You bob your head patting his knees and before your hands could sneak any higher he grabbed them, chugging the last of his whiskey and ruffling his wild tresses back to stand both of you on feet.

"Hmm. Was 'avin', fun weren't ye'?" He asks looping his forearms around your front protectively and keeping you close to him while making an exit from the crowd.

"Ehm. dunno, hot bartender." He scrunches his nose at this pinching your hip-bone rasping out in his thick chapel's accent.

"Thought ye'r same thought, babe." You cackle at this loudly gasping audibly when the cold zephyr of London enveloped you. He immediately kisses your head stroking his thumb against the nape of your neck.

"'Ere lemme be ye'r personal heater." He cacoons the warm coat he's wearing around your body pulling you to his chest, his exposed pecks coming in contact with your own bare shoulders making both of you hiss. "Better hurry up, wan' to get wrapped 'round your warmth." You laugh at his chaotic humour hitting him with elbow.

On reaching the car that's parked at the very end of parking lot you spin in his hold gazing deep into his jade and he sucks his bottom lip inside his mouth when you grab his face, squishing his blushed chill cheeks in process.

You part your lips infront of him glazing your wet tongue all over your plump lips to give him a little show before pulling him closer to smear them against his stiff ones, you kiss him sloppily letting your saliva drool around the corners of his lips lapping onto his tongue messily.

"Mhmp. Ye' know your sloppiness turn meh on s' bad." He grunts with fog huffing out sliding his large palm under your thigh to grope your ass and haul your leg around his waist as you lean over the bonnet of car. He glides his thumb from your decolletage to the hilt of your chin tilting it to deepen the already erotic kiss, tasting the insides of your cheeks.

He captures your bottom lip in between his bunny teeth pulling it with floppy sound. He looks down upon you with lust blow irirses wide spreading his legs to straddle your bare thighs and to rub his knee against your soaked centre.

"Meh filthy girl's jealous t' 'er fuckin' core, innit?" You shake your head left and right in utter innocence. He laughs at your effort. Degradingly, intimidatingly rough from his chest that prominents your heavy breathing and a soapy patch of arousal in your thong.

"Now lyin' t' meh aren't ya, bunny." He smirks with stern brows tapping your chin and your dainty squeak traps in your lungs when he yanks you off the bonnet against the door side of the car squeezing between the two cars for less visibility of the dirty things they're about to do.

He kisses the dip where your shoulder meets your neck trailing his parted lips between your breasts tweaking your nipples harshly from the flimsy cloth, "not jealous, right?" He mumbles grazing his teeth against your jawline pecking the corner of your lips.

"No." You choke out slip shutting your eyes and letting your head fall against the window as he thrusts the buldge of his thick hard cock in his pants against your cunt, one hand gripping your hip with bruising force you love other around your throat.

"Not even if I'll be...on me knees fo' him? He heaves out flushing your sweaty chests together and your eyes rolls to your skull with his pressure building on your throat, you grind against him with moans of ecastasy him perfectly rubbing up and down between your weepy pussy lips.

He smirks in victory knowing it's warming you up so he continues in slurred seductiveness, "no' when I'll beg fo' his cock in me mouth? fo' him to deep throat meh, t' fuck me mouth?" You whimper. Shivering hands reaching for him, instead of grabbing them as he usually do with gentleness he wrapped his one palm around your wrists locking them atop your head roughly.

He slaps your pussy and you ducked forward crying out with pleasure into his chest. He tugs at your thong ripping it to shreds and stuffing it to his pocket, "when I'll spread me legs fo' him...." His hard on poking against your stomach as he toyed with your clit. He swipes the tip of his fingers up and down circling it around your weeping hole collecting your moisturizer and snaking it up past your mound and tummy to nipples wetting them. Actually, making a complete mess of you.

"Harry..." You whine raising your hips and he spanks your thigh tapping your chin to open up stuffing his fingers into your mouth, "shut up and suck." You swirls your tongue around his slender digits; a string of saliva attached with your lips as he pulled them out.

"Tell meh ye're jealous, 'n I'll give ye'r tight pussy meh fingers." He pinches your clitoris flickering it into rapid motions, "wh-why should i? when m' not." you spurts out. Tears in your eyes as he eggs you on removing his fingers the moment you were about to soak his digits.

He tuts pushing his dick hard against you, "ye' wouldn't if he'd fuck meh in arse again 'n again, if he'd take me in his mouth 'n play with meh balls like yeh do?" He asks in a low voice looking down in between himself and you, the sight makes him growl as he gave a minute to your imaginations to run wild.

"Ah..ah–daddy, please." You're thrashing in his arms but he doesn't give much attention to it spitting on your cunt and fondling with your sensitive nerves. Harry's a prick that gets what he wants even when you're dripping down your legs for him.

"Answer meh, Y/N! Wouldn't ask again." He grits with a threatening voice and you bobbed your head vigorously. "Use ye'r words." He hovers his middle finger over your entrance.

"Course, I will." He pecks your lips with satisfied grin shoving his middle finger knuckles deep inside your sloppy pussy without any warning causing you to go feral that he had to hold you in one place, "warm like always." He grunts slipping it in and out joining another. Curling it against your spongy walls to quench out moans and whimpers from you.

He digs his teeth inside the flesh of your shoulder and you coiled your arms around him tightly, "oh my god, fuck. fuck. fuck." Your shouts muffles against him as he continuously massaged your g-spot, siscorsing his fingers to fuck you raw with them. He cups his calloused palm and rubs the heel of it against your swollen clit.

"Tell daddy how ye' feel." You kneaded your breasts stuttering with difficulty, "'s good daddy but wan' your cock, inside me." He thwacks your bum groping it and roughly slamming his fingers inside you his metal cold rings brushing against your sticky pussy lips.

"Don't like it when yeh act greedy." You ignore his sharp tone sensing your orgasm build in your tummy and spreading like a wildfire to your bones.

"'cum–m'. May..I come, daddy? Please." You rocked on his hand using his shoulders for leverage, "cum like a sweet good girl yeh are." He says kissing you slowly and you tugged at the lapels of his coat cumming hard on his fingers coating it with your thick cum.

He hugged you swaying you feet to feet one hand still pushing inside you with brutal pace to take every drop from you. His wrist glistening with your cum and wetness in an instant his mood switching, "backseat, spread your legs. I wan' your pussy ready fo' me."

.

MASTERLIST.

[theboyzuniverse]

Jealous?

Request: Your smuts are great. Can I request a Jacob one? That boy is soft yet so sexy.

Content: Jealous sex, a little rough but not really.

You excitedly waited in anticipation as your best friend Kevin starts singing his part. You missed him so much as he had gone home to Canada for a month, and you barely had time to even text each other during his vacation. Kevin's voice really was beautiful. Of course your boyfriend Jacob would always be your favorite singer, but Kevin's own voice came a close second.

Kevin makes eye-contact with you as he sings, and you smile back cheering them on. The next thing you know you're locking eyes with Jacob who looks sinfully hot as he danced. You loved the duality of his persona on stage and the way he was actually the softest person you know as he got off the stage. Your heart skips a beat as he smirks, you were all for sexy on stage Jacob.

"So how was it?" Kevin asks you excitedly as you meet them backstage.

"Amazing, as usual." You smile and give him a hug.

"We have a lot to catch up on," He tells you as you nod excitedly. "But right now I'm exhausted so I'll actually see you later."

Kevin gives you another hug as he's about to leave.

"Okay okay, can I finally get a hug from my girlfriend?"

Jacob walks towards you with the softest smile that was enough to melt away any evil in the world.

"You were perfect!" you tell him before he can ask you about the performance and he just laughs.

"I gotta get changed and meet some people, do you mind waiting at home? I'll come home, clean up, and we can go out for dinner or something."

"Or we can order in."

He smiles again and gives you a peck. Jacob knows you love going out, and even if he loves staying in he always goes out of his way to do the things you love. This time you wanted to do what he wanted, which is stay home and cuddle, because this man actually spoils you way too much. Of course he never expects anything back as long as you were happy, but you can't help wanting to take the things he liked to do in consideration. Dating someone so opposite to you wasn't always easy, but compromising to what the other liked to do helped you get closer and you wouldn't have it any other way.

"Yes, we can absolutely do that, I'll see you at home."

So you go back to the apartment where Hyunjae and Juyeon also live. The boys now lived in separate apartments shared with their respective roommates they had while they lived in a dorm. You hoped a little that the other boys wouldn't stay home so that you and Jacob could have some alone-time together. Your phone rings as soon as you settle down on the sofa.

"Y/N!"

Kevin waves at you through the screen with a face mask on, and you laugh at him.

"Can't fall asleep again?" You ask him.

"You know it," He replies, and starts playing a Beyonce music in the background. Kevin and his never-ending love for all things Beyonce.

"So how was the family?"

"First thing, it wasn't as crazy as I expected it to be..."

He starts going on a rant about the clash between families. His older sister had gotten married, causing some of their family to fly over from Korea to Canada. A lot of people coming together had caused a lot of drama.

"...but the important thing was like, I did get to sing for her and choose the song though there was a lot of protest. I went crazy at the after-party, that was fun."

"Oh gosh... You didn't."

"Oh yes I did, Kevin went wild baby!"

Then he got up and started twerking like the mess he is, making you laugh and wheeze when a very confused Eric saw him. You started to calm down when Jacob arrived home, he looked a little tired.

"Hey Kev," He said emotionlessly to the screen. "I'll go clean up, I'll be right back."

Jacob gives you a peck and goes to clean up.

"He must be really tired," Kevin commented. "I'll leave you guys alone now, call you later?"

"Yeah yeah,"

"Love you," Kevin pouts his lips. Sometimes you wonder why you're even friends.

"Love you too, Kev."

You hang up and go to Jacob's room, he was still in the shower. The room was dark except for some fairy lights you got for him. It was pretty and calming, and the warm yellow light had reminded you of Jacob's warmth, that was why you had bought it for him. You freeze in your spot when you see Jacob coming out from the bathroom, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, making you feel all sorts of things. This man's duality constantly keeps you on your feet. He immediately notices you staring and starts moving towards you.

"So you're finally done talking to him?"

You're flustered and nervous at his words, and the close proximity of where he was standing. He sounded jealous but you were confused, it wasn't like Jacob to be jealous.

"Y-yeah," You finally replied after a short pause.

He leans in for a kiss but instead of being soft and pulling you in by the waist as he usually did, he corners you and pins you to the wall. The kiss was already deep and rough as soon as he started, no usual build up.

Jacob pulled away so you both could catch your breath he looked at you straight in the eyes. His stare sent a chill down your spine, it scared you a little yet it was thrilling and exciting. It was a side of him you had never seen before.

"Do you do this on purpose?" He asked, slightly clenching.

You knew exactly what he was talking about but you couldn't help yourself.

"Do what?"

"Always try to make me f***ing jealous."

You were shocked at him actually cussing.

"I-"

He cuts you off with another kiss.

"You know, exactly, what you're doing," He says between kisses, and starts getting rougher.

Jacob removes his lips from yours only to attach them to your neck again. Extending your neck to give him more access came way too naturally for you, and before you knew it he snaked an arm around your waist and one reached into your shirt. While leaving a few more hickeys on your neck, he squeezes your nipples a little and with the sudden sensation you let out a little moan which makes him smirk.

"I'm gonna have to teach you that I'm the only one who can make you feel this way,"

His tone is different, his eyes look different. The man you were looking at had little traces of the soft Jacob that you knew, and for some reason it was turning you on. He looked hot as hell, and you found yourself feeling a little nervous. It wasn't like you haven't had sex with him before, but this side of Jacob was new. He looked incredibly sexy, and you actually liked it.

"Already very wet for me I see,"

Jacob lays you down on the bed as he reaches inside your skirt and palms you over your panties making you squirm a little. Then he takes out his hands making you frown, disappointed because it had felt good.

"Don't squirm," He commands you.

"Yes,"

"Yes?"

"Yes, Jacob."

He removes your shirt, and you remove your bra as he works on your skirt. Then before you can brace yourself he inserts a finger inside you making you gasp. He slowly pumps his hand and goes faster as you start bucking your hips to match his pace. You were so turned on you felt like you would come easily, and he knew it. You thought he would stop before you orgasmed but he doesn't stop even as you start clenching around him and reach your orgasm.

"Good girl," He kisses your lips again, "But we're not done."

You stare at him, it was the first time you two were going immediately for seconds. Then you realize he hasn't even removed his towel yet, and you gasp a little when he does, he was so hard. He positions himself at your entrance and thrusts into you, not giving you time to really adjust. It hurts the first two times mostly because you were still sensitive from your first orgasm, but you start feeling really good again.

Jacob clasps his hands with yours pushing them into the sheets as his thrusts become faster. You try to meet his thrusts but every time he hits your sweet spot you melt into the pleasure he was giving you, it sent you into a kind of bliss that only he alone could make you feel. He kisses you and immediately stops when you start clenching around him again. You whine in protest when he pulls out.

"Turn around," He commands.

You comply, immediately wanting more as soon as possible. He immediately slides into you again with no pause, one hand on your hips and one slightly pulling at your hair. You moan again surprised at how good it all felt, you usually wanted to be able to see him at all times when you were having sex.

After a few more thrusts Jacob lets go of your hair and reaches down to rub your clit which sends you into overdrive. You start clenching around him again, this time he doesn't stop and you reach your climax for the second time that night. He keeps at it a few more times as he also reaches his high, and his thrusts become sloppy as you both finish riding out your orgasms. He pulls out and turns you around to kiss you.

"You know I'm the only one who can make you feel this way right?"

"You're the only one who can make me feel this way," You confirm.

He smiles, and your soft Jacob is back. Lying down next to you he pulls you into his arms kissing your forehead.

"Did I hurt you?"

"No, but you were kinda hot." He blushes a little at your remark.

Yup, your boyfriend was back.

"Maybe he can show up from time to time."

"Definitely," You agree.

The both of you barely manage to get up and wash up a little before you fall asleep. You were completely tired and worn out.

The next day you wake up to Jacob's kisses on your cheeks and you smile. You think about the night before and become slightly distracted. Seriously? In the morning? You scold yourself. However, Jacob seemed to have the same idea as he rolled on top of you and kissed you, then slightly grinding himself on you. You moan a little as he does so. You don't know whether its because it was morning but you felt like you could almost come immediately as he keeps grinding on to you. The friction of thin clothes that separated you made it feel so good.

"I'm almost there," He half-whispered.

You put your hands on his arms and dig into them.

"Me too," You mumbled back as you both almost immediately reached your high.

You were surprised that this could happen just by grinding on each other.

"We better get up," Jacob tells you. "I smell breakfast."

Neither of you bother to wash up first and head straight to the Kitchen where Hyunjae and Juyeon are eating breakfast. They both stare at you.

"What?" You ask taking a bite of the bacon.

"So first thing in the morning huh?" Juyeon teased as Jacob almost chokes on his cereal.

[seokiie]

𝙲𝚞𝚝𝚒𝚎 (𝙼)

+ 𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺: 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦'𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

+𝘞𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4𝘬+

+ 𝘗𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨: 𝘏𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘰𝘬/𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

+ 𝘞𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: 𝘷𝘪𝘳𝘨𝘪𝘯!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘪𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘢 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧, 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘹, 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘪𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘣𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘴𝘦𝘹

On AO3

One of Hoseok's favorite parts of the day was coming home and taking a shower after a long day at the dance studio. His other favorite part of the day was dancing at the dance studio, and of course, he also loved spending time with his six roommates... plus you.

You.

The way you became friends with the seven guys was surprisingly very dull. You met around a year ago at a local restaurant you worked at. Upon the first meeting, the seven guys noted how quiet you were for a waitress. Your eyes were always pointed down and you never stayed long enough to respond to their advances. You just didn't seem to fit your profession. (Like who has ever heard of a shy waitress?) The contrast between you and your job only intrigued them more. It took a few months of routinely visiting the restaurant and talking you up till they slowly broke you out of your shell. Hoseok to this day still thinks about how you progressively opened up to them, laughing at their jokes and finally calling them friends. Cute.

Hoseok turns the shower off and grabs a clean white towel from the shelf right outside the bath. He shouldn't be thinking of you while he's in the shower, even if his thoughts are completely chaste.

"He has a way better fashion sense than me, does he really need my opinion?" You mumble to yourself looking down at your phone. Taehyung had texted you to come to his room so you can check out some of the outfits he bought. He always did this, texting you even though you were in the dorm with him. At some point, you just figured that's the type of person he is. It would be a lie to say you weren't like that, too.

You walk into the hallway with all the bedrooms. Past Jungkook's room, past Hoseok and Jimin's room and after the bathroom should be Taehyung's-

"Oh, shit!" What you hadn't expected was for the bathroom door to spring open as soon as you were about to walk past it. You nearly fall to the ground in shock.

"Jesus, y/n... almost scared me. Are you okay?" It's Hoseok, that's the first thing you notice. The second thing you notice is the droplets of water rolling down his chest and biceps. Was it just you or was he flexing? You also notice the way his towel is hanging low, revealing his soft v-line and a trail leading to somewhere lower.

You don't even know you're checking him out until Hoseok snaps his fingers at you.

"Yah! Eye's are up here, jagi." You can feel yourself redden, your body hot with embarrassment and a knowing smile on Hoseok's face.

"Where are you off to?" Hoseok figures this isn't exactly the best place to make small talk but something in him is telling him to tease you more. He's fixated on the way you can't stand still. You're either shifting your weight between legs or playing with the sleeve of your sweater. He loves it.

"Uh.. was off- was going to Taehyungs... Taehyungs room.." Okay, yeah. Hoseok's a dancer but you never expected him to look so good. Half of you wants to lick up his abs and the other half is mentally punishing yourself for having those thoughts.

"Really? What does Taehyung want with you in his bedroom?" If it was even any more possible, you feel yourself redden even more at Hoseok's words. His eyes are so innocent and you feel a little dumb reading to much into his question.

"No, uh, nothing. He just wants me to look at his clothes. That's all." Hoseok's eyes lock you in place and you start to wonder if he'll ever release you from his spell.

"I shouldn't hold you up then. Go on, now." You stand still as Hoseok lays a reassuring hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly and maybe letting it linger a little longer than he should before walking to his room right across the bathroom.

When Hoseok shuts his bedroom door, he lets his back hit the door, a satisfied grin on his face.

"What's with you? Did you beat off in the shower again? I thought Namjoon said to stop doing that." Jimin's lying in bed scrolling through his phone and Hoseok almost forgot he shared his room with someone.

"What I do in the shower is none of your business, Jiminahh." Hoseok tosses his towel at Jimin and lets out an evil laugh when the younger flinches and whines. - You've been at the forefront of Hoseok's thoughts for the past week and it's seriously affecting his work. At first, he's not sure why you keep popping up in his mind. I mean, of course he thinks about you, it's hard not to when you're at the dorm half the time he's there. But he's having a lot more... risqué thoughts. Thoughts that shouldn't be acceptable for someone as pure as you.

Hoseok figures he'll do something about that.

It really doesn't take much to get you flustered, all cute and red with your eyes pointing down. The more he teases you the harder it gets for him to not go farther, to not just hike your skirt up and fuck you against the nearest surface.

He wonders when you'll catch on to the way he purposely presses against you when he walks past you, almost as if he was trying to squeeze through a tight space and you were in the way. He puts both his hands on your waist, subtly moving you aside as if you weigh nothing. The feeling of pressing up against that beautiful ass of yours, god, even if it's for just a second... he could only describe it as euphoric. The best part is after his hands leave your waist and he keeps walking, he can feel your eyes on his back. He doesn't have to see your face to know you look like a deer caught in headlights, sputtering like an idiot.

Hoseok can't help but wonder if you'll make that same expression when he takes out his cock and shoves it down your throat. Would you get all wide and glossy-eyed? Or would your eyes get droopy, looking up at him with so much lust as he forced you to take more of his length?

"Are you okay, hyung?" Hoseok flinches when he sees how close Jungkook is to his face and the maknae laughs in response. "This hyung gets scared so easily, are you sure you're older than me?"

"Yah! I might be a scaredy-cat but that doesn't mean I don't have the guts to kill you. Go sit, now." Jungkook laughs again before returning to the other living room couch. When Hoseok finally has some space he looks down, under the blanket over his lap and yep, just as he suspected.

He's hard.

The boys were holding a movie night tonight and it was going to start in a few. If there was one thing Hoseok was not about to do, it was sitting through a 2-hour long movie with an awkward boner.

"Kookie, I'm gonna take a shower real quick. Don't start without me." Hoseok is so lucky the light isn't on. He's sure the maknae wouldn't let it go if he saw Hoseok waddling off to his room with a boner.

"Be quick. Seokjinnie and Namjoonie-hyung are gonna be home soon." Hoseok gives a sound of approval before speeding into his room, grabbing a towel, then leaving before shutting himself in the bathroom. Jimin, whos laying down on his phone again, has learned not to question it.

Hoseok doesn't really like jerking off in the shower, but when you live in a house with six other men, you learn to make do. He lets his forehead rest on the shower wall as his soapy hands run over his body. The water beating against his back feels so good, almost like a massage. It makes him think about you.

He knows your hands aren't that big but he's heard Jimin talk about how good your massages are, how good you are with your hands.

See, this is the terrifying thing about you. You're such an innocent person. God, you're so innocent. When the guys make the dirtiest jokes, you never understand but you laugh along anyway, awkward and endearing. He wonders if he's a terrible person for wanting to ruin that innocence.

Shamelessly letting his hand wrap around his cock, he wonders if you're still a virgin. Somehow that turns him on even more, the thought of being your first. The thought of being the first and best guy you'll ever be with.

"Shit..." Precum is starting to bead at the tip of his cock but the water washes it away. Shutting his eyes, he thinks about how good he could fuck you, how good he could treat you if you just gave him the chance.

He lets out a growl, squeezing his hand into a fist around his length and fucking into his hand. He pretends his hand is the tightness of your aching pussy. Behind his eyelids, he sees your fucked out face as he's on top of you. Maybe you'd cry from how good it feels. If you did he thinks he'd wipe your tears away with his thumb and give you the most mind-numbing kiss.

Your lips. Hoseok thinks your lips are a different kind of sexy. He never really sees you in lipstick, rather he always watches when you apply brandless chapstick to those precious lips of yours. And it never failed to turn him on when only minutes later you'd start chewing at your bottom lip. It must've been a bad habit but god was he thankful for it.

It doesn't take much more to push Hoseok over the edge. He's been pent up all day, his brain plagued with thoughts of you. Just like that, his finger brushing against the tip of his cock, he comes into his hand. He fucks himself through his orgasm squeezing out every last drop of himself that he can with an airy moan.

When he enters his bedroom, Jimin rolls his eyes at him.

"Don't! Say it!"

-

Hoseok and the rest of the members are relaxing in the living room when Seokjin and Namjoon finally come home. The maknae's give a chorus of woo's when they see the bags of snacks they're holding.

"Ah, kids, stop yelling and- damn it- and help us!" Seokjin whines as a couple of bags of chips fall from the white plastic bag, he really had his hands full. Hoseok's about to get up and give Jin and Joon a hand when he sees you walk in behind the two. He freezes momentarily, watching as you rushingly place the two plastic bags on the kitchen counter before helping pick up some of the dropped sacks.

"Oh, Hoseok, you don't have to." You offer him a smile before turning around as if that'd stop him from being a decent human being. He kneels to help you pick up what's fallen but he finds himself admiring the view instead.

You in a skirt. You bending over in a skirt to pick up a can of soda. Your skirt hiking up slightly when you bend over and was he the only one seeing this? You're not wearing fancy laced panties, they're a simple light blue and black plaid design and he loves the way your ass looks in them. It's almost like the display is meant only for him. Hoseok bites his lip so he doesn't let out an audible moan at the sight. When you stand up, one of your hands smoothes over the back of your skirt while the other holds Doritos and a sprite. His eyes follow as you walk deeper into the kitchen and he's left on the floor. You literally existed in front of him and it made him hard.

"Hoseokie-hyung, why are you on the floor? We're about to play Mario Kart." Jungkook calls from over the couch and he's holding a controller in his hand.

"I'm coming, I'm coming." Hoseok sits between you and Yoongi and while watching Taehyung absolutely destroy Namjoon in Mario Kart, he comes to the conclusion that he needs to turn you into his personal cock slut and it's gonna happen tonight, no matter what. Although, he's not sure if it was his brain or his dick who came to that conclusion.

All night, Hoseok keeps you close. Even when his hand is resting on your thigh just barely under your skirt, you regard it as Hoseok being his usual touchy self.

"That reminds me. While Jimin was in Japan he brought back those limited edition KitKats." His voice is lower in your ear, you assume it's because he doesn't want the others to hear.

"Really? The really delicious strawberry white chocolate flavor?" Hoseok loves the way you light up at his lie. Well, it wasn't completely a lie. If you complied, he'd reward you with those KitKats you loved so much... and maybe something else. His bones itch with the need to corrupt you.

"Yeah, I think so. They're in our bedroom. If you come with me I can steal some without him knowing."  The way you look up at him with excited eyes, nodding enthusiastically has his cock throbbing in his shorts. Ideally, in a few minutes, you'll be looking up at him with that same face except you'll be on your knees begging for him to paint your face with his cum.

No one bats an eye as Hoseok grabs your wrist and you both rush off to his and Jimin's shared room. They're all too focused on the screen, well except Yoongi and Namjoon. They're both too busy sleeping.

You and Hoseok are alone in his bedroom. The door is closed and the light orange of the sunset is spilling into the room, it sets a weird mood you've never really felt before. Feeling kind of awkward, you stand near the door playing with the hem of your skirt.

Hoseok is on his knees searching under Jimins bed for the KitKats and you take the time he's turned away to place a hand on your chest, trying to calm your racing heart.

"Ah, I found them. He's not very good at hiding things." He pulls out a pink box with little hearts and Japanese characters. You let out a little nervous laugh as he walks towards you with it.

You meet his eyes when he's in front of you and is he supposed to stand this close? You feel so small as he practically towers over you. You look down again before you can see the smirk on his face.

"Has anyone told you how cute you are?" Hoseok tosses the box onto his bed, some of the chocolate inside falling out. The action has you confused but what's even more confusing is the look in his eyes.

"How cute and absolutely fuckable you are?" Your face reddens and a wave of heat spreads throughout your body.

"Hoseok! You- you can't-" You cover your eyes with both your hands, embarrassed. Hoseok seemed to do this to you a lot lately. Was teasing you really that fun?

"Can't what? Fuck the innocence out of you? Jesus, you're so small, y/n. I really don't think I can handle it any longer." His hands wrap around your wrists, not tight enough to hurt but tight enough for you to know what he needs. Part of you really wants to give it to him but part of you won't let him.

"Don't... don't say things like that, it makes me feel-" You try to cover your eyes again but Hoseok uses his hold on your wrist to bring your hands above your head, you can't help stumbling backward into the wall at the force.

"Does it turn you on? When I talk to you like that? Does it turn you on when I tell you how bad I wanna tear those cute little panties off you and make you come all over my tongue?" Hoseok's body is pressed so tightly against yours, you can feel the way he twitches in his pants against your abdomen. You whimper at the feeling. That whimper is where Hoseok draws the line.

You try to open your mouth again, probably to utter out some useless excuse as to why you two shouldn't do this, but as soon as your mouth is open Hoseok his pressing his lips to yours. The kiss is hot and heavy and moving dangerously fast into a heated makeout session. You're not sure what to do with your mouth but your inexperience doesn't phase him, he loves having control over you.

Hoseok's other hand runs up your bare thigh before bringing your leg up to wrap around his waist, his other hand keeps your wrists pinned above your head. You pant into the kiss, desperate for air but Hoseok simply uses the opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

"Ah- mm-" You helplessly rut your hips against his as he devours your mouth, you can hear the way he growls at your actions.

"God, you're so- fuck- you're so needy and all I did was kiss you." Hoseok relishes in the taste of your chapstick as he pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you two before snapping and attaching to your chin. Hoseok almost cums when your tongue darts out to lick it away.

"Put your hands here, baby," Hoseok instructs you to rest your arms on his shoulders as he let's go of your wrists. You follow his directions immediately.

You're not sure exactly what he has planned until he's using his last free hand to grab your other thigh and bring your other leg around his waist, the only thing supporting you now was him and the wall you were pressed against.

The new position almost makes you see stars. You can't help stifling a moan into Hoseok's neck with the way he's poking you through your skirt.

"Such a sensitive little girl, hm? Is that all it takes to make you feel good? I could grind you into the wall and you'd come right in your panties, right?" Hoseok voice is deep and raspy in your ear and it's getting harder to form a coherent thought.

"I've wanted you for so long. Can't work because all I think about is you, your cute face, your cute body, your cute ass. Fuck, I wanna break you so bad. Let me ruin you, y/n, please?"

You're not sure how to respond, actually, you don't think you can. Anxiety tightens your throat and all you can give him is a quick excited nod.

"I need more than a nod, baby. Cause when I start I don't know if I'll be able to stop. C'mon, talk to me." His thumbs smooth over your cheeks and the gesture helps your body calm down. Hoseok was always such a good caretaker.

"I want you but- I don't- I've never..." You shove your face back into Hoseok's neck, flustered. You're scared if he knows you're a virgin he won't want to do this anymore.

"You've never had sex?" Hoseok grabs you by the nape of your neck, carefully bringing your head up so you were looking him in the eye again. You shake your head in response.

"That's fine, I'll take care of you. Just let me make you feel good." Hoseok brings your lips to his, a kiss that has you relaxing against him even further. His hands move from your nape down to his shorts, they're loose-fitting and come down in one easy motion. You can't see because your skirts in the way but you feel the way Hoseok isn't wearing anything under those shorts. You bite your lip to suppress the moan crawling out of your throat when you feel the tip of his cock press against the thin material of your panties.

"That's a good girl. This feel good? You like having my cock like this? I can feel how wet you are through your panties." Hoseok's dirty words having you reeling and for the first time in your life you can't find it in yourself to care how loud you are, how fucked out you look.

You grind down against Hoseok's straining cock and you can feel it twitch and throb against your lips. Hoseok has to put one hand on the wall behind you to stop his legs from giving out.

"F-fuck." He watches as you move your hips against his, needy and wanton. "Look at you using me like I'm your toy. Are you sure you're a virgin?"

"Hoseokie, please..." You moan into Hoseok's neck and for the first time, you feel an ache inside you, something hot and on the verge of boiling over. Only Hoseok can fix that ache.

As soon as a whimpering 'please' leaves your mouth Hoseok is pushing your panties aside from under your skirt and pressing the head of his cock against your weeping cunt. You immediately clench at the feeling of something trying to pierce through you.

"So tight, y/n. When's the last time you fingered yourself, baby?" Hoseok's voice is light, pleasure evident in his voice as he pushes only his tip inside.

"I don't- ahhng-" This time your moan isn't muffled by anything and if Hoseok wasn't shoving his whole cock inside of you right now you'd be scared the other members could hear you.

"Hoseok-ahhaa, it hurts-" So good. You don't know how else to describe the feeling of him stretching you open. It stings as he splits you open farther than you could've ever imagined but it sends waves of pleasure throughout your body.

"You're too tight, y/n. Fuck, relax, baby. Trust me." Hoseok gasps in your ear and it was taking every fiber of his being to not pound you into the wall. He's not sure if he's ever exercised this much self-control in his life.

You try to listen and calm your body down a bit and when you finally loosen up a bit Hoseok bottoms out.

"Feels like your pussy was made for me, just for me." At first, his thrusts start off slow, easing in and out of you to help you get used to the feeling. Somewhere along the line, though, Hoseoks reserve wore thin and he finds himself fucking you into the wall, hard enough to the point where you slid up the wall every time he pistoned inside you.

"I'm so happy I'm your first. And I'm gonna be your- ah... I'm gonna be your last. I'm gonna ruin sex for you..." Hoseok gasps against your neck and runs a hand through your hair, damp with sweat. He pulls your hair back just enough so your head is tilted back and your neck is exposed. Hoseok really can't help biting the pretty untouched skin there. At that, you let out a moan that can only be described as pornographic. You don't know how to describe the feeling then, but you were starting to see stars. Hoseok was hitting something inside you, you didn't know what but it was making it difficult to keep your eyes open. Helpless cries of pleasure and Hoseok's name spill uncontrollably from your lips as your nails dig into his back

"Gonna- 'm gonna, It feels-" Hoseok thinks your face alone is enough to push him to the edge, eyes completely fucked out and clouded with lust, saliva running down your chin as you babble incoherent curses and whines of his name. With his hand still gripping your hair back, he watches as you come undone around him. Your legs squeeze tighter around his waist, causing him to somehow plunge deeper inside you and that does it for Hoseok.

Having your breathless whimpers in his ear along with the way you clench around him has Hoseok reeling towards orgasm, fucking you through your own. Despite having jerked off maybe two hours before, Hoseok thinks this is the hardest he's ever came.

He takes his time before pulling out, holding you close and letting you rest your head on his shoulder so you can catch your breath. When your feet finally touch the hardwood you think your legs might give out but Hoseok's hands keep your grounded.

"Are you okay? I didn't hurt you right?" Hoseok uses his thumb to clean the saliva on your chin before pressing a kiss to your lips then to your forehead. You can't help a giggle at that point.

"Don't laugh! I know I said I'd break you but I need to keep you intact for next time." Hoseok pulls his shorts up and runs a hand through his messy hair, only managing to reveal his forehead. Your eyes follow the movement.

"Next time?" You press your thighs together. Something was dripping down your leg.

"What do you mean 'next time'? What do I look like letting such a pretty little thing slip from my grasp?" Hoseok pats your already messy hair and you shrink away like you usually do, whining.

"Now, if you're ready, let's go back. I wanna show you off." Hoseok's hand intertwines with yours but he stops in his tracks when you don't move.

"Or not. We could just lay in bed together?" His expression looks slightly worried but you're thinking of something else entirely.

"Hoseok, there's stuff running down my thigh. It feels weird." Your mouth turns into a ^ and Hoseok wants to kiss the look off your face.

"That's my cum. If it feels weird dripping down your leg I can finger it back inside you and make sure it stays inside that cute little pussy of yours."

★━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━★

[© seokiie]

[I do not allow any translating, editing, reposting, or use of any my work!!]

[danhoemei]

By unpopular demand of 1 (one) whole person @wkxs​, who asked someone to write this scene of zzs playing a make-up artist for wkx’s evil eyeshadow™️, I went and made this, so aye have it *booing noises*

[also on ao3, cw mature]

--------

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

A clearly exasperated voice broke the silence of the otherwise quiet room. The sound was soon followed by a rustling of the robes when the only other person in the room turned around to glance at its source.

Zhou Zishu stood in the middle of the room with his arms crossed and eyebrows furrowed. Morning sun, which peeked through a window nearby, lit the bottom of his robes and an area around him, adding an almost ethereal and imposing tinge to his look.

He stood there on purpose.

“I am not going to wait an hour or so until you deem your eyeshadow perfect.”

Wen Kexing sat on the edge of the bed, half turned from the nightstand and a mirror which now reflected the side of his head. His arms were still up, hovering near his face and revealing a palette full of different shades of red held in one hand, and a brush in the other.

They stared at each other without moving for a moment before the eye contact got broken by Wen Kexing shamelessly running his eyes across Zhou Zishu’s whole body. He turned around completely, relaxing his body from sitting upright to leaning askew on one arm which he put casually on the nightstand, still holding the half-closed palette in it.

“Well I am not going out without it,” he span the brush between the fingers of his free hand, leaving a subtle arch of red powder in the air.

“We’re just going shopping.”

“Where people are gonna see us,” the brush stopped abruptly, pointed at Zhou Zishu as if to make the point stronger.

Zhou Zishu stood still like a statue, only his head turned sightly to the side and his eyebrows moved up.

“We have a reputation to uphold,” Wen Kexing explained, answering to the unimpressed questioning gesture of his partner.

“What reputation,” the corner of Zhou Zishu’s lips twitched.

The nightstand creaked as Wen Kexing leaned more onto it and put his arm up to support his chin on the hand.

“Of being sexy,” he winked. The effect was slightly damaged by the palette still stubbornly - or purposefully - held in his hand, a wide messy box hanging next to his face.

Of all the reactions Zhou Zishu could have given, the one he did not expect himself to fall into was to burst out laughing. He threw his head back and let his shoulders shake to the rhythm of his laughter. Despite having closed his eyes, he still saw the ridiculous image of the half-dressed man winking with his half-painted eye, who looked more like a disheveled maiden who had just woken up and tried to hastily correct her make up rather than a flirtatious philanthropist.

His reaction must have been a surprise not only to himself but also to the other man, because as soon as he calmed down enough to look back at the source of his mirth, he was met with wide, slightly shining eyes, and an expression which he could describe as a mixture of stunned and transfixed.

The man seemed to finally start breathing again. He sat up straighter and licked his lips.

“Ah-Xu, you are so-”

“Ok.”

Wen Kexing blinked and halted in his movement again.

Before he reacted in any way, Zhou Zishu walked towards him and without any prelude pushed him back onto the bed. Wen Kexing fell back without any resistance, but Zhou Zishu could still feel a subtle twitch of the body beneath him as the man got trapped by the weight of a fully grown person straddling him. Wen Kexing obediently let the palette and brush be taken out of his hands.

Zhou Zishu hung just above Wen Kexing, satisfied with the quickness and the lack of fighting.

“I’m gonna do it quick and then we’re going. And no complains for how it’ll look.”

Wen Kexing stared up quietly with a content smile and twinkling eyes.

“Sure.”

Zhou Zishu’s eyes narrowed as the thought of this whole situation going exactly as the bastard planned crossed his mind. However, he quickly put the thought aside and moved his attention to the palette to choose the first shade.

The brush glided across the pale skin, leaving a trail of deep red which added a dangerous glint to the dark eyes below, staring intensely into his own without a break. Zhou Zishu could admit to himself that he did like when Wen Kexing had this sharp smudge of color on, which complemented his eyes and made others turn their heads to look at the man with either admiration or fear. He could admit it after all this time, but only to himself.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a feeling of a soft caress on his lips, which instantly brought him back to reality. He blinked a few times, trying to bring his attention back to the smiling eyes directly below his own, so close that it was almost hard to focus on them.

“You were smiling. I couldn’t resist.”

“I was not,” Zhou Zishu countered as if on reflex. Only now did he notice that a set of hands was put on his hips at some point and started rubbing small circles on them.

“Sure, whatever you say,” Wen Kexing tilted his head slightly back, his smile growing wider.

A loud clank echoed throughout the room as Zhou Zishu closed the palette in one quick move and energetically leaned back.

“Well, I’m finished, let’s go-”

He chocked on the last word as the world suddenly span around and darkened. A dark veil of hair soundlessly fell around him, blocking the light and cutting off his surroundings. All that was left was a pale face tinged with red, floating right in front of his eyes, connected to a slender neck which grew out of a strong chest peeking out of a loosely tied, slightly open robe. Zhou Zishu swallowed.

A strand of hair must have tingled his cheek, because of how itchy it felt.

A chuckle came from above, luring his eyes to dart up again.

“Like what you see?” the man’s voice dripped with satisfaction.

Before Zhou Zishu could answer, he heard a click of the palette being opened, and he realised that it got taken out of his hand at some point.

“Your turn now.”

At last, completely woken up from his daze, Zhou Zishu plastered an open hand on Wen Kexing’s face and pushed it back.

“Hell no.”

A cheerful, slightly muffled laughter resounded throughout the room, soon followed by the sounds of tossing and fighting.

The clash did not last as long as it often could, after all their encounters sometimes could extend to the whole day of running around and breaking unfortunate things which stood on the way. This time, however, it was one of the instances which gravitated towards a playful banter and lingering touches, those that gradually extended in time and frequency until both men rolled onto the bed again, kissing and grabbing at each other.

The temperature in the room seemed to have risen despite the coldness of the morning seeping through an open window.

Wen Kexing, who landed on top of Zhou Zishu and pinned him down with his weight, finally released his lips. He leaned back just a bit, still leaving their faces so close that their noses rubbed together.

“Say,” he breathed out. “What if we went tomorrow.”

Zhou Zishu’s dazed, half-lidded eyes were glued to Wen Kexing’s, his face hot and body warm. Even though he was asked a question, he was not given time to answer. He felt a shiver run across his skin after Wen Kexing dove down and left a wet kiss on his neck. Zhou Zishu opened his mouth.

A sudden knock rendered both man still and speechless.

“Shifu, shishu, I’m ready!” Zhang Chengling’s voice broke through the door and rang through the silence like a bell.

As sudden as the knock, Zhou Zishu threw Wen Kexing off and swiftly jumped off the bed. He fixed his clothes and put on his outer robe, tying it hard and smoothing out any wrinkles, all the while focusing on his breathing and the flow of his qi.

“Be ready in ten minutes or we’re leaving without you,” he threw over his shoulder, voice calm and collected, only glancing at the man who was still lying on the bed and looking with dark eyes in the direction of the door.

Zhou Zishu left the room, quickly closing the door behind him and blocking the sight of the insides from Zhang Chengling. It was not needed though, as the boy already stood several steps away. One could say that he was used to backing up as soon as he reported his readiness, either to make way for the men, or to keep away from the ever-so-loud room filled with unimaginable feats.

Zhou Zishu passed him by and stopped only after walking for a moment. Enjoying the morning chill on his skin, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath of refreshing air in. Zhang Chengling was just behind him, and as he stood by his teacher, he couldn’t help but keep glancing at him.

“Spit it,” Zhou Zishu finally couldn’t bear the fidgeting next to him.

“Shifu, you’re awfully red, are you sick? Should we postpone the trip after all?”

The last word transformed into a quiet yelp as the boy’s head got gently hit on the back, and he looked up with pitiful eyes at the back of Zhou Zishu’s turned head.

“Shut up, brat.”